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SCHOOL   READER 


THIRD    GRADE 


BY 


FANNY   E.   COE 

TEACHER    OF    ENGLISH    IN    THE    BOSTON    NORMAL    SCHOOL 

AUTHOR    OF    "MODERN    EUROPE,"    "  OUR 

AMERICAN    NEIGHBORS,"    ETC. 


** 


NEW  YORK-:- CINCINNATI.:. CHICAGO 

AMERICAN    BOOK    COMPANY 


Copyright,  1908,  by 
FANNY   E.   COE. 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London. 


coe  3d  r. 


•   -•" 


w.j-.vi  :  :• :  %, 


•  • 


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tDUCATION  DEFY- 


CLASSIFIED   CONTENTS 

POETRY 

PAGE 

Allingham,  William.     The  Fairies 92 

Wishing 163 

Robin  Redbreast 103 

The  Bible.     A  Psalm  of  David 227 

The  Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son 273 

Bjornson,  Bjornstjerne.     The  Tree 138 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett.     A  Child's  Thought  of  God  276 

Fields,  James  T.     The  Captain's  Daughter      ....  197 

Hemans,  Felicia.     Casabianca 57 

Hogg,  James.     A  Boy's  Song 19 

Houghton,  Lord.     Good  Night  and  Good  Morning  ...  40 

Ho witt,  Mart.    Old  Christmas 120 

Ingelow,  Jean.     Seven  Times  One  are  Seven    .        .        .        .211 

Jewett,  Sarah  Orne.     Discontent 176 

Keble,  John.     Christinas  Bells 120 

Kingsley,  Charles.     The  Lost  Doll 27 

Lucas,  Edward  V.     The  Carpenter 187 

Miller,  Mrs.  Emily  Huntington.    Little  May      ...  67 

Stevenson,  Robert  Louis.     The  Land  of  Story  Books    .        .  9 

Symonds,  John  Addington.     In  February       ....  143 

Wordsworth,  William.     We  are  Seven 76 

THE  PRETERNATURAL 

MYTHS 

Coe,  Fanny  E.     The  Race  of  Atalanta 11 

Ceres  and  Proserpine 21 

Apollo  and  Hyacinthus 238 

The  Wonderful  RMe  of  Phaeton    ......  242 


6 

CHIVALRY 

PAGE 

Arthur  and  the  Sword 198 

Arthur  and  the  Sword  Excalibur 203 

The  Setting  up  of  the  Round  Table 207 

FOLK  TALES 

The  Queen  Bee 59 

Little  Red  Riding-hood 44 

The  Fisherman  and  his  Wife          .         .         .         .         .         .  1G4 

The  Three  Wishes 178 

MODERN  FAIRY  TALES 

Abbott,  Jacob.     The  Story  of  Golgorondo        ....  249 

Ewing,  Juliana  II.     So-So 95 

Mace.     Miss  Careless 85 

The  Necklace  of  Truth  .         . 213 

ANIMAL   LIFE 

De  Segur.     A  Donkey  Race 131 

(See  also  "  The  Queen  Bee,"  "  How  the  Crickets  brought  Good 
Fortune,"  "  Bruce  and  the  Bloodhound,"  etc.) 

HUMAN    LIFE 

CHILD  LIFE 

Anonymous.     Signs  of  Baby 80 

A  Holiday  Hunt 105 

The  Bible.     David  and  Goliath .  219 

Little  Samuel 139 

Eytinge,  Margaret.     The  Tiny  Mahogany  Box      .         .        .  122 

Smith,  Mary  Prudence  Wells.     The  School  for  Squashes    .  14 

The  Game  of  Hy  Spy 229 

Stahl,  P.J.     How  the  Crickets  brought  Good  Fortune     .         .  81 

White,  Eliza  Orne.     How  Molly  spent  her  Ten  Cents  .        .  259 


ADVENTUBE 

PAGE 

Wyss.     The  Wreck  and  the  Life  Boat 183 

Going  Ashore .         .        .  188 

Cocoanuts,  Sugar  Canes,  and  Monkeys 192 

Thomas,  Martha  M.     A  Night's  Adventure  on  the  Ohio  River  69 

HISTOBICAL   STORIES 

(Arranged  Chronologically) 

Coe,  Fanny  E.     Story  of  William  Tell 128 

Baldwin,  James.     Bruce  and  the  Spider 144 

Scott.     Bruce  and  the  Bloodhound 146 

Another  Bloodhound  Story 149 

How  a  Farmer  took  a  Castle 152 

Baldwin,  James.     The  Black  Douglas 155 

Coe,  Fanny  E.     The  Heart  of  Bruce  .         .         .         .         .         .100 

Coe,  Fanny  E.     The  Little  Midshipman 55 

Grace  Darling 42 

The  Story  of  the  Birkenhead 36 

HUMOR 

Hale,  Lucretia  P.     The  Peterkins  at  Dinner  ....  28 

The  Peterkins  go  to  Drive 50 

Lear,  Edward.     The  Owl  and  the  Pussy-cat     ....  117 

The  Duck  and  the  Kangaroo 246 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

The  selections  from  Lucretia  P.  Hale,  Sarah  Orne 
Jewett,  Eliza  Orne  White,  and  James  T.  Fields  are 
used  by  special  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 
The  extracts  from  M.  P.  W.  Smith's  "  Jolly  Good  Times 
on  a  Farm  "  is  used  by  permission  of  Little,  Brown  &  Co. 
The  extract  from  De  Segur's  "  Story  of  a  Donkey "  is 
reprinted  by  permission  of  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.  "The 
Land  of  Story  Books  "  by  Stevenson  is  reprinted  by  per- 
mission of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.  Two  extracts  from 
Wyss's  "  The  Swiss  Family  Robinson  "  are  used  by  per- 
mission of  E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Thanks  are  extended  to  the  above-mentioned  publishers, 
and  grateful  acknowledgment  is  furthermore  rendered  to 
Mr.  James  Baldwin  for  the  use  of  two  of  his  "  Fifty 
Famous  Stories  Re-told  "  and  to  Mrs.  Emily  Huntington 
Miller  for  her  poem  "Little  May." 


COE'S  THIRD  READER 


**?< 


THE  LAND   OF  STORY  BOOKS1 
star'ry  prowled  sol'i  tudes 


At  evening,  when  the  lamp  is  lit, 
Around  the  fire  my  parents  sit. 
They  sit  at  home,  and  talk  and  sing, 
And  do  not  play  at  anything. 

1  From  "  Poems  and  Ballads,"  copyright  1895,  1896,  by  Charles 
Scribner's  Sons. 

9 


10 

Xov.\  Vitli  i«iy  little  gun,  I  crawl 
All  in  the  dark  along  the  wall, 
And  follow  round  the  forest  track 
Away  behind  the  sofa  back. 

There,  in  the  night,  where  none  can  spy, 
All  in  my  hunter's  camp  I  lie, 
And  play  at  books  that  I  have  read 
Till  it  is  time  to  go  to  bed. 

These  are  the  hills,  these  are  the  woods, 
These  are  my  starry  solitudes, 
And  there  the  river,  by  whose  brink 
The  roaring  lions  come  to  drink. 

I  see  the  others  far  away, 
As  if  in  firelit  camp  they  lay, 
And  I,  like  to  an  Indian  scout, 
Around  their  party  prowled  about. 

So,  when  my  nurse  comes  in  for  me, 
Home  I  return  across  the  sea, 
And  go  to  bed  with  backward  looks 
At  my  dear  Land  of  Story  Books. 

—  Robert  Louis  Stevenson, 


11 

THE   RACE   OF   ATALANTA 

dam'sel*  quiv'er  Ve'nus 

con  di'tions  or'a  cle  spec  ta'tors 

At  a  lan'ta  Hip  pom'e  nes  li'on  ess 

Long  ago  there  lived  a  young  princess 
named  Atalanta.  She  was  more  like  a  lad 
than  a  maiden.  She  loved  to  run,  to  swim, 
and  to  hunt. 

A  quiver  full  of  arrows  hung  from  her 
shoulder.  In  her  left  hand  she  carried  her 
bow.  Fleet  was  the  deer  that  could  escape 
her! 

Atalanta  had  had  her  fortune  told.  The 
oracle  had  said,  "  Atalanta,  do  not  marry ! 
Harm  will  come  if  you  do." 

The  young  princess  decided  to  obey  the  or- 
acle. She  had  many  lovers,  but  she  answered 
them  all  in  this  way :  "  Let  us  try  a  race. 
If  you  win,  I  will  be  your  Avife.  If  you  lose, 
you  must  die." 

These  were  hard  conditions.  However,  there 
were  some  young  men  ready  to  try.      They 


12 

asked  their  friend  Hippomenes  to  be  the 
judge  of  the  race. 

"  How  foolish  you  are !  "  cried  he.  "  I 
would  not  risk  my  life  for  the  most  beautiful 
damsel  in  all  Greece." 

But  when  Hippomenes  saw  Atalanta  on 
the  race  course,  he  changed  his  mind.  Her 
beautiful  golden  hair  floated  behind  her  in 
a  cloud  as  she  ran.  Her  eyes  shone  as 
blue  as  the  sky;  her  cheeks  were  pink  as 
the  dawn.  No  one  in  all  the  world  was 
so  fleet  of  foot.  "  She  is  worth  the  risk," 
said  Hippomenes. 

Atalanta  ran  far  faster  than  the  friends  of 
Hippomenes,  and  so  they  all  had  to  die. 

While  Atalanta  was  resting,  Hippomenes 
stepped  forward.  "  I  will  race  with  you  and 
win,"  he  cried. 

"Be  warned  by  the  fate  of  your  friends," 
said  the  maiden.  "  I  do  not  wish  your  death." 
To  herself  she  added,  "  I  could  almost  wish 
him  to  outrun  me." 

In  the  moment  before  the  race,  Hippome- 


13 

nes  prayed  to  Venus  :  "  Come  to  my  aid,  0 
Venus.     Upon  you  I  depend." 

Immediately  Venus  slipped  into  his  hand 
three  golden  apples.  She  whispered  in  his  ear 
the  way  to  use  them. 

The  signal  was  given.  The  young  man 
and  maiden  began  to  race.  "  Hasten,  hasten, 
Hippomenes !  "  cried  the  spectators.  "  You 
are  gaining.     One  more  effort !  " 

But  Hippomenes  grew  weary ;  his  breath 
began  to  fail  him.  He  threw  one  of  the 
golden  apples  to  the  ground.  Atalanta  saw 
him  and  wondered ;  then  she  stopped  to  pick 
it  up.     Hippomenes  raced  ahead. 

The  people  shouted  for  joy.  But  a  minute 
later  Atalanta  had  passed  him.  Again  he 
threw  an  apple  and  again  he  gained  on  Ata- 
lanta. 

The  goal  was  very  near  when  Atalanta 
passed  him  the  third  time. 

"  Help,  Venus!"  he  cried,  and  threw  down 
the  last  apple  far  to  the  right.  Atalanta  saw 
the  golden  gleam.     She  hesitated,  and  then 


14 

rushed  after  it.  Thus  Hippomenes  won  the 
race  and  a  beautiful  wife. 

You  would  suppose  that  they  would  seek 
Venus  at  once  to  thank  her  for  her  aid.  But 
Atalanta  and  Hippomenes  were  so  happy  that 
they  forgot  every  one  and  everything. 

To  punish  them  Venus  changed  Atalanta 
to  a  lioness  and  Hippomenes  to  a  fierce  lion 
with  a  tawny  mane.  Together  they  draw  the 
car  of  one  of  the  goddesses.  —  F.  E.  Gob. 

THE   SCHOOL   FOR   SQUASHES 

commit'tee  expres'sion  prod'igy 

dig'ni  fied  ob  served'  quan'ti  ty 

doffing  op'po  site  re  spond'ed 

ex  am  i  na'tion  par  tic'u  lar  re  tired' 

In  the  afternoon  Lois  came  up,  and  Millie 
and  she  went  out  to  the  barn  to  play.  In  one 
of  the  vacant  stables,  Mr.  Kendall  had  stored 
a  quantity  of  crook-necked  squashes. 

"  Let's  play  keep  school  with  these 
squashes,"    said    Millie.       "The    boys    aren't 


15 

around  anywhere  to  bother  us,  and  we  can 
have  real  fun." 

"  I  slipped  out  the  front  door  so  Roy  needn't 
know  I  was  coming,"  said  Lois. 

With  an  old  stump  of  a  broom  they  swept 
the  stable  nicely.     Some  milking-stools  made 


good  seats  for  the  teacher  and  the  "  com- 
pany," and  the  squashes  were  leaned  up  in  a 
row  against  the  wall  opposite. 

"  Now,"  said  Lois,  "  we  must  scratch  their 
names  on  them  with  pins,  or  we  never  can  re- 
member ;  they  look  so  much  alike." 


16 

"  Let's  give  them  the  prettiest  names  we  can 
think  of,"  said  Millie. 

So,  Louisa,  Eva,  Helen,  Augusta,  Rose, 
Grace,  Minnie,  were  scratched  in  big  letters 
on  the  squashes'  smooth  skins. 

"Let's  call  this  one  Mary  Jane,  she's  so 
homely,"  said  Lois,  holding  up  a  dark-colored 
squash,  covered  with  wart-like  bunches. 

"  No,"  said  Millie,  "  I  don't  think  we  ought 
to  hurt  her  feelings  just  because  she  is  homely. 
She  can't  help  it,  you  know.  Let's  call  her 
Florence  and  play  she  is  really  smart." 

When  every  one  was  named,  Millie  said, 
"Now  I'll  be  the  teacher,  and  you'll  be  the 
committee  to  come  in  to  visit  the  school. 
Play  it's  examination  day." 

Lois  retired.  Presently,  as  the  class  were 
spelling  "Baker"  in  very  loud  tones,  a  rap 
came  at  the  stable  door.     Millie  went  to  it. 

"  Oh !  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Jones  1  I  am 
very  happy  to  see  you.    Won't  you  walk  in  ?  " 

Doffing  her  sunbonnet  with  an  important 
air,  Lois  walked  in  and  took  a  seat  on  the  milk 


17 

stool.  She  sat  up  very  stiffly,  and  looked  with 
a  dignified  expression  at  the  scholars. 

"Now,  Grace,"  said  Millie,  with  a  prim  air, 
"  let  me  hear  you  spell  '  candy.'  " 

"  Kan-de,"  spelt  Grace,  in  a  squeaky  little 
voice. 

"  The  next." 

"Kan-di." 

"No.     Florence,  spell  '  candy.' " 

"  Can-dy,"  spelt  this  prodigy,  in  loud 
prompt  tones. 

"  Go  to  the  head." 

"  That  Florence,"  whispered  the  teacher 
to  the  committee,  "  is  my  best  scholar." 

"  She  looks  as  if  she  might  be,"  politely  re- 
sponded the  committee. 

"  Would  you  like  to  hear  them  do  anything 
in  particular  1 "  asked  the  teacher. 

"  Yes,  I'd  like  to  hear  them  say  the  table  of 
sixes,  backward." 

"  H'm,  I'm  afraid  they  don't  know  it  very 
well.  You'd  better  hear  them  sing.  Class, 
sing  '  One  little,  two  little,  three  little  Indians.' " 

COE  THIRD  R. 2 


18 

As  the  sweet  strains  of  this  song  were  rising 
on  the  air,  the  school  was  suddenly  interrupted 
in  the  most  startling  manner.  Through  the 
scaffolding  over  the  stable  a  cowhide  boot  ap- 
peared, followed  by  a  long  leg,  and  loud  laugh- 
ing was  heard  from  above. 

"  The  boys  have  been  up  there  listening  all 
the  time !  "  exclaimed  Lois,  with  a  red  face. 

"  It's  just  as  mean  as  it  can  be,"  added 
Millie,  warmly. 

Ealph  now  swung  himself  down  into  the 
manger,  followed  by  Roy  and  Teddy. 

"  I  wouldn't  be  a-listening  round  where  I 
wasn't  wanted,"  observed  Millie,  loftily. 

"  We  weren't  listening.  At  least  we  were 
up  there  when  you  came  out  and  then  we 
couldn't  help  listening,  it  was  such  fun. 
Ralph  broke  through  the  scaffolding,  or  you 
wouldn't  have  found  us  out." 

"  Well,  then,  go   away  and  let  us  alone." 

"  No,  sir-ee ;  we  want  to  visit  the  school. 
Hooray,  here's  Florence,  the  smart  Florence! 
What  a  beauty  !  "  and  Roy  snatched  up  that 


19 

beloved  pupil  by  the  head  and  whirled  her 
around  so  rudely  that  her  delicate  neck 
snapped  in  two. 

"  I  hope  you  feel  satisfied  now,"  said  Millie, 
with  an  awful  calmness. 

"  I  say,  girls,"  said  Ralph,  "  let's  have  a 
good  game  of  '  Hy  Spy.'  Let  your  old  school 
go.  You  can  play  that  any  time.  Come  on, 
and  have  some  fun." 

Both  the  girls  being  very  fond  of  "  Hy 
Spy,"  they  concluded  to  forego  their  wrath 
for  the  present,  and  join  in  the  game. 

— Mary  Prudence  Wells  Smith. 

A  BOY'S   SONG 

ha'zel  ban'ter  clustering 

Where  the  pools  are  bright  and  deep, 
Where  the  gray  trout  dies  asleep, 
Up  the  river  and  o'er  the  lea, 
That's  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 

Where  the  blackbird  sings  the  latest, 
Where  the  hawthorn  blooms  the  sweetest, 


20 

Where  the  nestlings  chirp  and  flee, 
That's  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 

Where  the  mowers  mow  the  cleanest, 
Where  the  hay  lies  thick  and  greenest ; 
There  to  trace  the  homeward  bee, 
That's  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 


Where  the  hazel  bank  is  steepest, 
Where  the  shadow  falls  the  deepest, 
Where  the  clustering  nuts  fall  free, 
That's  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 


21 

Why  the  boys  should  drive  away 
Little  sweet  maidens  from  their  play, 
Or  love  to  banter  and  fight  so  well, 
That's  the  thing  I  never  could  tell. 

But  this  I  know,  I  love  to  play, 
Through  the  meadow,  among  the  hay ; 
Up  the  water  and  o'er  the  lea, 
That's  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 

—  James  Hogg. 

CERES   AND   PROSERPINE 

Ce'res       Ju'pi  ter     Mer'cu  ry    pome  gran'ate 
A  pol'lo   char'i  ot     Plu'to  Pro  ser'pi  ne 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  goddess 
named  Ceres.  She  had  the  care  of  the  flow- 
ers and  the  fruits. 

Ceres  had  a  dear  little  daughter  named 
Proserpine. 

Proserpine  spent  her  days  in  the  fields. 
She  loved  to  gather  lilies  and  violets  and  to 
make  wreaths  for  her  friends. 

One  day  Proserpine    and  her  little  friends 


22 


were  playing  happily  in  the  meadow.  A  short 
distance  off  they  saw  a  strange  and  wonder- 
ful flower.  It 
had  one  hundred 
bells  on  its  tall 
stalk. 

"Oh,  see!" 
cried  Proserpine, 
"  I  must  have  that 
flower."  And  she 
ran  to  pluck  it. 

Suddenly  the 
ground  shook 
and  trembled. 
Then  it  yawned  before  her.  From  the  depths 
of  the  earth  came  a  dark  chariot  drawn  by  six 
coal-black  horses. 

A  king  with  a  dark  brow  and  an  iron  crown 
held  the  reins.  He  seized  little  Proserpine,  and 
before  she  could  cry  for  help,  he  disappeared 
with  her  back  into  the  earth. 

After  a  time  the  other  children  missed  Pro- 


serpine 


They  thought  she  must  be  hiding. 


23 

They  searched,  but  failed  to  find  her.  Then 
they  told  Ceres. 

Ceres  was  heart-broken  when  she  heard  that 
her  little  girl  was  lost.  She  dressed  herself 
in  black  from  head  to  foot,  took  a  torch  in  her 
hand,  and  went  out  searching  for  her  little 
daughter. 

Just  think  how  your  mother  would  feel  if 
you  were  lost ! 

Ceres  walked  till  she  came  to  a  cottage.  An 
old  woman  sat  at  the  door.  She  was  the 
goddess  of  the  moon. 

Ceres  said,  "  Surely  you  know  where  my 
daughter  is  !  "  But  the  goddess  of  the  moon 
answered,  "  Alas,  no  !  " 

Ceres  went  on  her  lonely  way,  till  she 
reached  the  shore  of  a  lake.  There  sat  a  fair 
young  man.  He  was  Apollo,  the  god  of  the 
sun. 

Ceres  said  again,  "  Surely  you  know  where 
my  daughter  is  !  " 

Apollo  looked  into  her  sad  face  and  had  pity 
on  her.     "  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  I  do  know  where 


24 

your  daughter  is.  Pluto  has  taken  her  to 
his  palace  in  the  underworld." 

Ceres  walked  on  till  she  came  to  a  fountain. 
By  its  edge  she  seated  herself.  She  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands  and  wept  aloud.  "  Shall  I 
ever  see  my  Proserpine  again  ?  "  she  cried. 

Two  girls  came  along  with  pitchers  on  their 
heads.  They  asked  her  why  she  grieved. 
When  she  had  told  them,  they  said,  "  Come 
and  live  with  us,  and  we  will  make  you  as 
happy  as  we  can." 

Ceres  dwelt  with  them  one  year.  But  dur- 
ing that  time,  her  heart  grew  harder  and  harder. 
She  was  angry  with  the  earth  for  opening  to 
let  Pluto  pass  with  Proserpine.  So  she  cursed 
the  ground.  "  Wicked  soil,"  she  cried,  "  cease 
to  be  fruitful !  " 

Immediately  the  grass  and  flowers  withered  ; 
the  good  seed  failed  to  come  up  ;  the  cattle 
died  ;  and  even  man  grew  ill  and  unhappy. 

At  last  Jupiter  heard  the  cries  of  man. 
"  This  distress  must  cease,"  he  said ;  and  he 
sent  for  Ceres. 


25 

He  listened  to  her  sad  story  and  promised 
her  help.  Mercury  was  sent  to  the  under- 
world with  this  message  :  "  Restore  Proser- 
pine at  once  to  her  mother." 

Now  Pluto  loved  Proserpine  and  had  made 
her  his  queen.  .Day  by  day  he  urged  her  to 
eat,  and  day  by  day  she  refused.  Pluto  knew 
that  if  she  would  but  eat,  even  the  smallest 
morsel,  she  was  his. 

For  nine  months  Proserpine  had  eaten 
nothing.  But  one  day  she  was  tempted  by 
the  sweet  pulp  of  a  pomegranate.  She  ate  it, 
and  Pluto  was  happy. 

He  knew  now  that,  even  should  she  return  to 
Ceres,  she  must  spend  part  of  the  year  with  him. 

Soon  Mercury  came  to  take  Proserpine  to 
her  mother. 

Ceres  heard  the  rustle  of  Proserpine's  dress. 
She  looked  up.  There  stood  her  dearly  loved 
daughter. 

She  clasped  her  in  her  arms,  crying,  "  Now 
we  shall  live  happily  together  forever." 

"  That  cannot  be,  mother,"  answered  Proser- 


26 


pine.  "  Pluto  gave  me  an  enchanted  fruit  be- 
fore I  came  away.  In  six  months'  time  I 
must  return  to  him  again." 


How  happy  Ceres  was  while  her  daughter 
was  with  her !  The  gay  flowers  and  grass 
grew  once  more  upon  the  earth. 

But,  even  to-day,  during  the  long  six  months 
that  Proserpine  spends  in  the  underworld, 
no  green  thing  comes  up  out  of  the  ground. 

—  Fanny  E.  Coe. 


27 


THE   LOST   DOLL 


I  once  had  a  sweet  little  doll,  dears, 
The  prettiest  doll  in  the  world ; 

Her  cheeks  were  so  red  and  so  white,  dears, 
And  her  hair  was  so  charmingly  curled. 


But  I  lost  my  poor  little  doll,  dears, 
As  I  played  on  the  heath  one  day ; 

And  I  cried  for  more  than  a  week,  dears, 
But  I  never  could  find  where  she  lay. 


28 

I  found  my  poor  little  doll,  dears, 
As  I  played  on  the  heath  one  day ; 

Folks  say  she  is  terribly  changed,  dears, 
For  her  paint  is  all  washed  away. 

And  her  arms  trodden  off  by  the  cows,  dears, 
And  her  hair's  not  the  least  bit  curled ; 

Yet  for  old  time's  sake,  she  is  still,  dears, 
The  prettiest  doll  in  the  world. 

—  Charles  Kingsley. 

THE   PETERKINS  AT   DINNER 

in'cident  Pe'terkin  vegetables 

difficulty  preferred'  Sol'omon 

Ag  a  mem'non       in'dia-rub'ber 

This  little  incident  happened  in  the  Peter- 
kin  family.     It  was  at  dinner  time. 

They  sat  down  to  a  dish  of  boiled  ham. 
Now  half  the  children  liked  fat  and  half  liked 
lean.  Mr.  Peterkin  sat  down  to  cut  the  ham. 
But  the  ham  was  a  very  unusual  one.  The 
fat  and  the  lean  came  in  separate  slices, — 
first  one  of  lean,  then  one  of  fat,  and  so  on. 


29 

Mr.  Peterkin  began  by  helping  the  children 
according  to  their  age.  Now  Agamemnon  who 
liked  lean,  got  a  fat  slice  ;  and  Elizabeth  Eliza 
who  preferred  fat,  had  a  lean  slice.  Solomon 
John,  who  could  eat  nothing  but  lean,  was 
helped  to  fat,  and  so  on.  None  had  what  he 
could  eat. 

It  was  a  rule  of  the  Peterkin  family  that  no 
one  should  eat  vegetables  without  meat.  Al- 
though the  children  saw  upon  their  plates  apple 
sauce,  squash,  and  sweet  potato,  no  one  could 
take  a  mouthful,  because  no  one  was  satisfied 
with  his  meat. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peterkin,  however,  liked  both 
fat  and  lean.  They  were  making  a  good  meal, 
when  they  looked  up  and  saw  the  children  eat- 
ing nothing. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  said  Mr.  Peterkin. 

But  the  children  had  been  taught  not  to 
speak  at  table.  Agamemnon,  however,  made 
a  sign  of  disgust  at  his  fat,  and  Elizabeth  Eliza 
at  her  lean.  So  the  parents  understood  the 
difficulty. 


30 

"  What  shall  be  done  now  1  "  said  Mrs.  Pe- 
terkin.     They  all  sat  and  thought  for  a  while. 

At  last  Mrs.  Peterkin  said,  "  Suppose  we  ask 
the  lady  from  Philadelphia  what  is  best  to  be 
done." 

But  Mr.  Peterkin  said  he  didn't  like  to  go  to 
her  for  everything ;  let  the  children  try  to  eat 
their  dinner  as  it  was. 

They  all  tried,  but  they  couldn't. 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  "let 
them  go  and  ask  the  lady  from  Philadelphia." 

"  All  of  us  ?  "  cried  one  of  the  little  boys. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  "  only  put  on 
your  india-rubber  boots."  And  they  hurried 
out  of  the  house. 

The  lady  from  Philadelphia  was  just  going 
in  to  her  dinner,  but  she  kindly  stopped  in  the 
entry  to  hear  what  the  trouble  was.  After 
Agamemnon  and  Elizabeth  Eliza  had  told  her, 
she  said,  "  But  why  don't  you  give  the  slices 
of  fat  to  those  who  like  the  fat,  and  the  slices 
of  lean  to  those  who  like  the  lean  1 " 

They  all  looked  at  one  another.     Agamem- 


31 

non  looked  at  Elizabeth  Eliza,  and  Solomon 

John  looked  at  the  little  boys. 

"  Why  didn't  we  think  of  that  ?  "  said  they ; 

and  they  ran  to  tell  their  mother. 

—  Lucretia  P.  Hale. 

HOW  THE  CRICKETS  BROUGHT  GOOD 
FORTUNE 

re  quest'       re  ceived'        Jacques      re  ceipt'ed 

My  friend  Jacques  went  into  a  baker's  shop 
one  day  to  buy  a  little  cake.  He  meant  it  for 
a  sick  child  who  could  be  coaxed  to  eat  only 
by  tempting  his  appetite. 

While  he  waited  for  his  change,  a  little  boy 
in  poor  but  clean  clothes  entered  the  shop. 

"  Ma'am,"  said  he  to  the  baker's  wife, 
"  mother  sent  me  for  a  loaf  of  bread." 

The  woman  took  from  the  shelf  the  best 
loaf  she  could  find  and  put  it  into  the  arms  of 
the  boy. 

"  Have  you  any  money  1  "  said  the  baker's 
wife. 

The  little  boy's  eyes  grew  sad. 


32 

"No,  ma'am,"  said  he,  hugging  the  loaf 
closer  to  his  thin  jacket,  "  but  mother  told 
me  to  say  that  she  would  come  to-morrow  to 
speak  to  you  about  it." 

"  Run  along,"  said  the  kind  woman  ;  "  carry 
your  bread  home,  child." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am,"  said  the  poor  little 
fellow. 

My  friend  Jacques  now  received  his  purchase 
and  change  and  turned  to  go.  He  found  the 
child,  whom  he  had  supposed  to  be  halfway 
home,  standing  stock-still  behind  him. 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  %  "  asked  the 
baker's  wife.     "  Don't  vou  like  the  bread  1 " 

"  Oh,  yes,  ma'am  !  " 

"Well,  then,  carry  it  to  your  mother,  my 
little  friend.  If  you  wait  any  longer,  you  will 
get  a  scolding." 

The  child  did  not  seem  to  hear.  Something 
else  held  his  attention. 

The  baker's  wife  went  to  him  and  tapped 
him  gently  on  the  shoulder.  "  What  are  you 
thinking  about  ?  "  said  she. 


33 

"  Ma'am,"  said  the  little  boy,  "  what  is  it 
that  sings  ?  " 

" There  is  no  singing." 

"  Yes!  "  cried  the  little  fellow.  ".Hear  it! 
Queek,  queek,  queek,  queek  !  n 

My  friend  and  the  woman  both  listened  but 
heard  only  the  chirp  of  the  crickets.  These 
little  creatures  are  often  guests  in  bakers' 
houses. 

"  It  is  a  little  bird,"  said  the  dear  little  fel- 
low, "  or  perhaps  the  bread  sings  when  it 
bakes,  as  apples  do." 

"  No,  indeed,  little  goose ! "  said  the  baker's 
wife.  "  Those  are  crickets.  They  sing  be- 
cause we  are  lighting  the  oven  and  they  like 
to  see  the  fire." 

"  Ma'am,"  said  the  child,  blushing  at  his  bold 
request,  "  I  should  be  so  happy  if  you  would 
give  me  a  cricket." 

"  A  cricket !  What  in  the  world  would  you 
do  with  a  cricket,  my  dear  1  I  would  gladly 
give  you  all  there  are  in  the  house  to  get  rid 
of  them." 

COE  THIRD  R.  —  3 


34 

"  Oh,  ma'am,  give  me  one,  only  one,  if  you 
please!"  cried  the  child,  clasping  his  thin  little 
hands  under  the  big  loaf.  "  They  say  that 
crickets  bring  good  luck.  Perhaps  if  we  had 
one  at  home,  mother  wouldn't  cry  any  more." 

«  Why  does  your  poor  mother  cry  'I "  asked 
Jacques. 

"  Because  of  her  bills,  sir.  Father  is  dead, 
and  mother  w^orks  very  hard,  but  she  cannot 
pay  them  all." 

My  friend  took  the  child,  and  with  him  the 
great  loaf,  into  his  arms,  and  1  really  believe 
he  kissed  them  both. 

Meanwhile  the  baker's  wife  had  gone  into 
the  bakehouse.  She  made  her  husband 
catch  four  crickets.  These  he  put  into  a 
box  with  a  hole  in  the  cover,  so  that  they 
might  breathe. 

Then  the  woman  gave  them  to  the  happy 
child. 

When  he  had  gone,  the  baker's  wife  took 
down  the  account  book  and  found  the  page 
where  the  mother's  charges  were  written.    She 


35 


made  a  great  dash  down  the  leaf  and  wrote  at 
the  bottom,  Paid. 

Meanwhile  Jacques  had  wrapped  in  paper 
all  the  money  he  had  found  in  his  pockets. 


Then  he  wrote  a  note  to  the  mother  of  the 
little  cricket  boy,  telling  her  she  had  a  son 
who  would  one  day  be  her  pride  and  joy. 

The  money,  the  note,  and  the  receipted  bill 
they  gave  to  a  baker's  boy  with  long  legs. 
"  Hurry  now !  "  said  they. 


36 

The  child,  with  his  big  loaf,  his  four  crickets, 
and  his  little  short  legs  could  not  run  very 
fast.     The  baker's  boy  reached  the  house  first. 

Thus  the  child  found  his  mother,  for  the 
first  time  in  weeks,  resting  from  her  work  with 
a  happy  smile  upon  her  lips. 

"  Oh,  the  crickets  have  done  it !  "  he  cried, 
and  I  do  not  think  he  was  mistaken.  With- 
out the  crickets  and  his  good  little  heart, 
would  this  blessed  change  have  taken  place 
in  his  mother's  fortune  % 

— From  the  French,  of  P.  J.  Stahl. 

THE   STORY   OF  THE  BIRKENHEAD 
col'o  nel  tre  men'dous  lieu  ten'ant 

A  great  ship  sailed  out  of  Queenstown 
Harbor.  There  were  over  six  hundred  souls 
on  board.  Most  of  these  were  soldiers  on 
their  way  to  fight  for  their  queen  in  South 
Africa. 

Many  of  these  soldiers  were  under  twenty. 
Some  were  fresh  from  the  farm ;  others  had 


37 

just  left  school.  They  were  under  the  com- 
mand of  Lieutenant  Colonel  Seton. 

Besides  the  soldiers  and  the  sailors,  there 
were  on  board  many  women  and  children. 
They  were  the  wives  and  little  ones  of  the 
soldiers. 

The  children  led  a  gay  life  at  sea.  They 
played  about  the  decks  by  day,  and  at  night 
slept  as  sweetly  as  if  they  had  been  in  their 
cradles  at  home.  Day  after  day,  kind  winds 
blew  them  steadily  south.  Night  after  night, 
the  kind  ocean  rocked  them  to  sleep. 

One  fine,  starlight  night  there  came  a 
tremendous  crash.  All  awoke  and  rushed 
on  deck.  They  learned  that  the  ship  had 
struck  on  a  rock  and  that  they  were  in  great 
danger. 

Boats  were  lowered.  But  alas!  there  were 
not  enough  for  all.     Who  should  go  ? 

The  women  and  children  were  put  into 
the  boats  with  a  few  sailors  to  row  them. 
Land  was  near  and  the  sea  was  calm.  They 
probably  would  be  saved. 


(38)  "Colonel  Seion  drew  them  up  in  battle  array. 


39 

As  the  boats  moved  off,  the  captain  cried, 
"  All  who  can  swim,  go  with  the  boats! " 

But  Colonel  Seton  said,  "  Men,  stay  here ! 
Would  you  risk  the  lives  of  the  women  and 
children?"  And  not  a  man  stirred.  They 
saw  that  even  so  few  as  two  or  three  more 
men  in  each  boat  would  overturn  it. 

And  now  they  faced  death.  Colonel 
Seton  drew  them  up  in  battle  array.  Over- 
head waved  the  English  flag.  The  old 
soldiers  and  the  lads  stood  shoulder  to 
shoulder.  Their  faces  were  white,  but  their 
eyes  were  steady,  and  their  lips  firm. 

So,  with  its  deckful  of  heroes  the  Birken- 
head sank  from  sight. 

There  was  mourning  in  England,  but 
there  was  a  proud  joy  too.  England  felt 
herself  the  richer  by  those  heroes  of  the 
Birkenhead. 

—  Fanny  E.  Coe. 


40 


GOOD   NIGHT   AND   GOOD   MORNING 


cu  n  ous 


courte'sied 


neighed 


A  fair  little  girl  sat  under  a  tree, 
Sewing  as  long  as  her  eyes  could  see ; 
Then  smoothed  her  work  and  folded  it  right, 
And    said,   "Dear    work,    good    night,    good 
night ! " 

Such  a  number  of  rooks  came  over  her  head, 
Crying,  "  Caw !  Caw !  "  on  their  way  to  bed, 
She  said,  as  she  watched  their  curious  flight, 
"  Little  black  things,  good  night,  good  night ! " 


41 

The  horses  neighed,  and  the  oxen  lowed, 
The  sheep's  "Bleat!  Bleat!"  came  over  the 

road, 
All  seeming  to  say,  with  a  quiet  delight, 
"  Good  little  girl,  good  night,  good  night!  " 

She  did  not  say  to  the  sun,  "  Good  night !  " 
Though  she  saw  him  there  like  a  ball  of  light ; 
For  she  knew  he  had  God's  own  time  to  keep 
All  over  the  world,  and  never  could  sleep. 

The  tall  pink  foxglove  bowed  his  head ; 
The  violets  courtesied,  and  went  to  bed ; 
And  good  little  Lucy  tied  up  her  hair, 
And  said,  on  her  knees,  her  favorite  prayer. 

And,  while  on  her  pillow  she  softly  lay, 
She  knew  nothing  more  till  again  it  was  day ; 
And  all  things  said  to  the  beautiful  sun, 
"  Good  morning,  good  morning !  our  work  is 
begun." 

—  Lord  Houghton. 


42 

GRACE    DARLING 

dis  tress'  ten'der  ly  neigh'bor  ing 

Grace  Darling  was  an  English  girl  who 
lived  in  a  lighthouse.  This  lighthouse  stood 
on  a  lonely  island  off  the  English  coast. 
The  lamp  was  tended  by  Grace's  father. 

Mr.  Darling  was  now  an  old  man,  but  he 
and  Grace  lived  quite  alone.  Grace  was 
strong  and  skillful.  She  could  row  a  boat 
as  well  as  a  man. 

One  night  there  came  on  a  terrible  gale. 
The  winds  blew  fiercely  and  the  sea  beat 
high  against  the  lighthouse  tower.  It  was 
long  before  the  Darlings  fell  asleep. 

Suddenly  Grace  awoke.  She  thought  she 
had  heard  a  cry.  She  sprang  to  the  window 
and  looked  out.  It  was  too  dark  as  yet  to 
see,  but  again  and  again  there  floated  across 
the  water  sharp  cries  of  distress. 

When  dawn  came,  Grace  woke  her  father 
and  together  they  went  down  upon  the  shore. 


43 

A  large  steamer  was  lying  wrecked  upon  a 
neighboring  island. 

"  Father,"  said  Grace,  "  we  must  launch  a 
boat.     Some  people  are  on  that  wreck." 

But  Mr.  Darling  shook  his  head.  The 
wind  blew  fearfully ;  the  tide  too  was  ris- 
ing.    To  launch  a  boat  meant  certain  death. 

Grace  saw  an  arm  waved  from  the  wreck. 

"  Father,  someone  is  still  alive  out  there. 
I  must  go."  She  pushed  off  the  boat  and 
sprang  in. 

Her  father  would  not  let  his  daughter 
face  death  alone.  He  leaped  into  the  boat 
also. 

Often  the  frail  boat  nearly  upset.  Storm 
and  spray  beat  against  their  faces,  but 
steadily  they  drew  nearer  the  wreck. 

At  length  Grace  could  count  nine  persons 
clinging  to  the  side  of  the  steamer.  One  by 
one  these  nine  persons  were  taken  into  the 
boat.  Then  Grace  and  her  father  rowed 
them  ashore. 

For  several  days  Grace  cared  for  them  ten- 


44 

derly.     Then  the  storm  passed  and  they  were 
able  to  return  home. 

The  story  of  the  courage  of  Grace  Darling 
was  told  all  through  England.  Many  rich 
gifts  were  sent  her,  but  what  she  cared  for 
most  was  the  joy  of  having  done   her  duty. 

—  Fanny  E.  Coe. 

LITTLE   RED   RIDING-HOOD 
bob 'bin  cau'tion  muffled 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  little  girl. 
She  lived  with  her  mother  in  a  cottage  on  the 
edge  of  a  wood.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
wood  lived  her  grandmother. 

This  dear  old  lady  had  made  her  grand- 
child a  pretty  red  cloak  and  hood  which  she 
was  seldom  seen  without.  On  this  account 
she  wa£  called  Little  Eed  Eiding-hood. 

One  day  her  mother  called  Little  Eed  Eid- 
ing-hood and    put    a   basket   into  her   hand. 

"  I  wish  you  to  go  to  your  grandmother's, 
dear,  and  see  how  she  is.  I  hear  she  has  been 
ill.     Give  her  the  cake  and  the  little  pot  of 


45 


butter  that  are  in  the  basket.     Don't  stop  to 
play  by  the  way,  and  don't  talk 
to  any  one  you  may  meet." 

Little  Red  Riding-hood  hur- 
ried along  the  path  to  her  grand- 
mother's. Halfway  through  the 
wood,  she  met  a  great  wolf. 
He  wished  to  eat  her,  but  dared 
not  because  some  wood  chop- 
pers were  working  near  by;  so 
he  began  to  talk  to  her  instead. 
"  Where  are  you  going,  little  girl  V  he  asked. 

Red  Riding-hood  forgot  her  mother's  cau- 
tion. "  I  am  going  to  see  my  grandmother," 
she  replied.  "  In  my  basket  are  a  cake  and  a 
little  pot  of  butter  from  my  mother." 

"  Does  she  live  far  off?  "  asked  the  wolf. 

"Oh,  yes.  It  is  the  first  house  in  the  vil- 
lage after  you  pass  the  mill." 

"  I  think,"  said  the  wolf,  "  that  I  will  go  to 
see  your  grandmother  too.  I  will  go  this  way, 
and  you,  that,  and  we  shall  see  who  will  get 
there  first." 


46 

The  sly  wolf  took  the  nearest  way  and  Red 
Riding-hood  went  by  the  farthest.  The  wolf 
raced  all  the  way,  while  the  little  girl  idled 
along  in  the  bright  sunshine.  Sometimes  too, 
she  stopped  to  pick  flowers  or  to  chase  a 
butterfly ;  so  the  wolf  reached  the  grand- 
mother's first. 

Tap,  tap,  tap !  came  his  knock  at  the  door. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  " 

"  Your  grandchild,  Little  Red  Riding-hood. 
Mother  has  sent  me  with  a  cake  and  a  little 
pot  of  butter." 

The  good  grandmother,  who  was  ill  in  bed, 
called  out,  "Pull  the  bobbin  and  the  latch 
will  fly  up." 

The  wolf  did  as  he  was  told  and  the  door 
opened.  Into  the  cottage  sprang  the  fierce 
animal.  He  leaped  upon  the  bed  and  ate  up 
the  old  woman  in  no  time,  for  he  had  gone 
three  days  without  food. 

"  Now  for  Little  Red  Riding-hood,"  thought 
the  wolf.  He  put  on  the  grandmother's  night- 
dress and  cap  and  got  into  bed. 


fc 

.     V 

j 

1     |         4                           #-#. 

-•X  tj^-'*! 

■4 

1 

M"  m 
1    F 

<wi\ 

■V^g 

■*'     f  V-_,  ::'W 

'*w            linf                                    L 

-< 

bit 

ftp* 

*****   •>■**. 

(«) 


She  met  a  great  wolf." 


48 

Very  soon  there  came  a  gentle  tap,  tap  at 
the  door. 

"  Who  is  there  !  " 

The  big  voice  frightened  Red  Riding-hood 
at  first.  Then  she  said  to  herself,  "  Grand- 
mother must  have  a  bad  cold."  So  she  re- 
plied, "This  is  Little  Red  Riding-hood. 
Mother  has  sent  you  a  cake  and  a  little  pot  of 
butter." 

"  Pull  the  bobbin  and  the  latch  will  go  up," 
said  the  wolf,  in  his  softest  voice. 

Little  Red  Riding-hood  pulled  the  bobbin, 
and  the  latch  flew  up  and  the  door  opened. 

The  wolf  hid  under  the  bedclothes  and  said 
in  a  muffled  voice,  "  Now,  dear,  put  the  cake 
and  the  pot  of  butter  on  the  shelf  and  come 
to  bed." 

Little  Red  Riding-hood  made  ready  for  bed. 
Then  she  came  to  the  bedside  and  gazed  with 
wonder  at  her  grandmother. 

"  Grandmother,  what  great  arms  you 
have !  " 

"  The  better  to  hug  you,  my  dear." 


49 

"  Grandmother,  what  great  ears  you  have !  " 
"  The  better  to  hear  you,  my  dear." 
"  Grandmother,     what     great     eyes      you 
have !  " 

"  The  better  to  see  you,  my  dear." 
"  Oh,  Grandmother,  what    great  teeth  you 
have !  " 

"  The  better  to  eat  you,  my  dear." 
With  these  words  the  wicked  wolf  sprang 
out  of  bed   and  ate  up  poor  Little  Red  Rid- 
ing-hood. 

But  the  little  girl's  cries  had  been  heard  by 
a  woodcutter.  With  ax  in  hand  he  hastened 
to  the  cottage. 

The  wicked  wolf  sprang  upon  the  man  as 
he  entered  the  door.  But  the  woodcutter 
was  the  stronger. 

With  one  blow  of  his  ax  he  cut  open  the 
wicked  wolf  and  lo  !  a  wonderful  thing  hap- 
pened. Red  Riding-hood  and  her  grand- 
mother, alive  and  well,  stood  before  him. 

How  glad  they  were  to  thank  the  kind  wood- 
cutter who  had  saved  their  lives ! 

coe's  third  r.  — 4 


50 

THE  PETERKINS   GO   TO   DRIVE 

min'is  ter  thought'ful  ly  op'e  ra  glass 

Twom'ly  ex  act'ly  neigh'bors 

One  morning  Mrs.  Peterkin  was  feeling 
very  tired.  She  said  to  Mr.  Peterkin,  "  I 
believe  I  shall  take  a  ride  this  morning!" 

The  little  boys  cried  out,  "  Oh,  may  we  go 
too  1 " 

Mrs.  Peterkin  said  that  Elizabeth  Eliza  and 
the  little  boys  might  go. 

Mr.  Peterkin  had  the  horse  put  into  the 
carryall,  and  he  and  Agamemnon  went  off  to 
their  business.  Solomon  John  went  to 
school,  and  Mrs.  Peterkin  began  to  get  ready 
for  her  drive. 

She  had  some  currants  she  wanted  to  carry 
to  old  Mrs.  Twomly  and  some  gooseberries 
for  somebody  else.  Elizabeth  Eliza  wanted 
to  pick  some  flowers  to  take  to  the  minister's 
wife.  So  it  took  them  a  long  time  to  pre- 
pare. 

The  little  boys  went  out  to  pick  the  cur- 


51 

rants  and  the  gooseberries,  and  Elizabeth 
Eliza  went  out  for  her  flowers.  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin  put  on  her  cape-bonnet  and  in  time  they 
were  all  ready.  The  little  boys  were  in  their 
india-rubber  boots  and  they  got  into  the 
carriage. 


Elizabeth  Eliza  was  to  drive.  She  sat  on 
the  front  seat  and  took  up  the  reins,  and  the 
horse  started  off  merrily.  Then  he  suddenly 
stopped  and  would  not  go  any  farther. 


52 

Elizabeth  Eliza  shook  the  reins,  and  pulled 
them.  Then  she  clucked  to  the  horse.  Mrs. 
Peterkin  clucked.  The  little  boys  whistled 
and  shouted.     Still  the' horse  would  not  go. 

"  We  shall  have  to  whip  him,"  said  Eliza- 
beth Eliza. 

Now  Mrs.  Peterkin  never  liked  to  use  the 
whip.  She  said  she  would  get  out  and  turn 
her  head  the  other  way,  while  Elizabeth 
Eliza  whipped  the  horse.  When  he  began  to 
go,  she  would  hurry  and  get  in. 

They  tried  this,  but  the  horse  would  not 
stir.  "  Perhaps  we  have  too  heavy  a  load," 
said  Mrs.  Peterkin,  as  she  got  in. 

So  they  took  out  the  currants,  and  the 
gooseberries,  and  the  flowers,  but  still  the 
horse  would  not  go. 

One  of  the  neighbors  looking  out  just  then 
called  out  to   them  to  try  the  whip. 

"I  have  tried  the  whip,"  said  Elizabeth 
Eliza. 

"  She  says  '  whips '  such  as  you  eat,"  said 
one  of  the  little  boys. 


53 

"  We  might  make  those,"  said  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin,  thoughtfully. 

"  We  have  plenty  of  cream,"  said  Elizabeth 
Eliza. 

"Yes,  let  us  have  some  whips,"  cried  the 
little   boys. 

So  they  went  into  the  kitchen,  and 
whipped  up  the  cream,  and  made  some  very 
delicious  whips.  The  little  boys  tasted  all 
round,  and  every  one  thought  they  were  very 
nice. 

They  carried  some  out  to  the  horse  who 
swallowed  it  down  very  quickly. 

"  That  is  just  what  he  wanted,"  said  Mrs. 
Peterkin.     "  Now  he  will    certainly  go  !  " 

Then  all  got  into  the  carriage  again,  and 
put  in  the  currants  and  the  gooseberries  and 
the  flowers.  Elizabeth  Eliza  shook  the  reins 
and  they  all  clucked.  Still  the  horse  would 
not  go ! 

"  We  must  either  give  up  our  ride,"  said 
Mrs.  Peterkin,  "  or  else  send  over  to  the  lady 
from  Philadelphia,  and  see  what  she  will  say." 


54 

The  little  boys  jumped  out  as  quickly  as 
they  could.  They  were  eager  to  go  to  ask 
the  lady  from  Philadelphia.  Elizabeth  Eliza 
went  with  them,  while  her  mother  took  the 
reins. 

They  found  the  lady  from  Philadelphia  very 
ill  that  day.     She  was  in  bed. 

When  she  was  told  what  the  trouble  was, 
she  very  kindly  said  they  might  open  the 
blinds  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  she  would 
see.  Then  she  asked  for  her  opera  glass,  and 
looked  through  it,  up  the  street  to  Mrs.  Peter- 
kin's  door. 

After  she  had  looked  through  the  glass, 
she  leaned  her  head  back  against  the  pillow, 
for  she  was  very  tired.  Then  she  said, 
"  Why  don't  you  unchain  the  horse  from  the 
horse  post  %  " 

Elizabeth  Eliza  and  the  little  boys  looked 
at  one  another.  Then  they  hurried  back  to 
the  house  and  told  their  mother.  The  horse 
was  untied,  and  they  all  went  to  ride. 

—  Lucretia  P.  Hale. 


55 

THE   LITTLE   MIDSHIPMAN 

mid'ship  man  O'rient  explo'sion 

dis  ap  peared'  Cas  a  bi  an'ca       prom'  ise 

The  battle  was  about  to  begin.  The  French 
had  seventeen  ships  and  the  English  but  four- 
teen. The  largest  ship  of  all  was  a  French 
one.  It  had  three  decks  and  one  hundred 
and  twenty  guns.     Its  name  was  the   Orient. 

The  flag  captain  had  his  little  son  on  board. 
The  boy  was  a  midshipman  and  was  about  ten 
years  old.     This  would  be  his  first  battle. 

His  father,  Captain  Casabianca,  wished  to 
place  his  son  in  safety.  He  stationed  him  on 
the  upper  deck.  "  Stay  here,  my  boy,  what- 
ever happens.  Stay  here  till  father  comes 
for  you,"  he  said. 

"  I  will,  sir,"  replied  the  lad. 

For  hours  the  battle  raged.  The  day  was 
going  against  the  French.  Suddenly  the  Ori- 
ent caught  fire.  There  was  great  danger  for 
all  on  board,  as  there  was  much  powder  in 
the  hold. 


56 

The  sailors  lowered  the  boats.  "  Come, 
little  Casabianca,"  they  called,  "  come  with 
us!" 

But  the  boy  shook  his  head.  "I  must  wait 
till  father  tells  me  to  go,"  he  cried.  Poor 
boy !  he  did  not  know  that  an  English  shot 
had  killed  his  father  an  hour  before. 

And  now,  the  very  last  boat  is  leaving. 
"  Come,  Casabianca,"  the  sailors  call.  "  Here 
is  the  last  chance  to  save  your  life !  Come  ! 
Come ! " 

" Father,  0  father!"  the  boy  calls,  "may  I 
go  I     Must  I  stay  %  " 

No  voice  replies,  and  the  gallant  lad,  true 
to  his  promise,  waves  his  hand  in  farewell  to 
the  sailors.  They  watch  him  sadly  as  they 
row  away. 

Suddenly  there  is  a  terrible  explosion.  The 
powder  has  taken  fire  and  the  ship  Orient  has 
disappeared.  The  little  midshipman  was 
faithful  unto  death. 

—  Fanny  E.  Cob. 


57 
CASABIANCA 

hero'ic      nn  con'scious    pen'non     chieftain 
splen'dor  frag'ments         shroud       wreath'ing 

The  boy  stood  on  the  burning  deck 
Whence  all  but  him  had  fled ; 

The  flame  that  lit  the  battle's  wreck 
Shone  round  him  o'er  the  dead. 

Yet  beautiful  and  bright  he  stood, 

As  born  to  rule  the  storm  — 
A  creature  of  heroic  blood 

A  proud,  though  childlike  form. 

The  flames  rolled  on,  — he  would  not  go 

Without  his  father's  word ; 
That  father,  faint  in  death  below, 

His  voice  no  longer  heard. 

He  called  aloud,  "  Say,  father,  say 

If  yet  my  task  is  done  !  " 
He  knew  not  that  the  chieftain  lay 

Unconscious  of  his  son. 


58 

"  Speak,  father !  "  once  again  he  cried, 

"  If  I  may  yet  be  gone !  " 
And  but  the  booming  shots  replied, 

And  fast  the  flames  rolled  on. 

Upon  his  brow  he  felt  their  breath, 

And  in  his  waving  hair, 
And  looked  from  that  lone  post  of  death 

In  still,  yet  brave  despair ; 

And  shouted  but  once  more  aloud, 

"  My  father !  must  I  stay  ?  " 
While    o'er    him    fast,   through    sail    and 
shroud, 

The  wreathing  fires  made  way. 

They  wrapped  the  ship  in  splendor  wild, 

They  caught  the  flag  on  high, 
And  streamed  above  the  gallant  child 

Like  banners  in  the  sky. 

Then  came  a  burst  of  thunder  sound  — 
The  boy  —  oh  !  where  was  he  ? 

Ask  of  the  winds  that  far  around 
With  fragments  strewed  the  sea, 


59 

With  mast,  and  helm,  and  pennon  fair, 
That  well  had  borne  their  part ; 

But  the  noblest  thing  that  perished  there 
Was  that  young  faithful  heart ! 

—  Felicia  Hemans. 


THE   QUEEN   BEE 
en  chant' ed  pres'ent  ly  Dummling 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  three  king's 
sons.  I  never  heard  the  names  of  the  two 
elder  sons,  but  the  youngest  was  called 
Dummling.  This  was  because  all  thought 
him  a  simple,  foolish  fellow. 

In  time  the  two  elder  sons  went  out  to  seek 
their  fortunes.  Years  passed,  but  no  word 
from  them  came  back  to  their  father. 

One  day  the  old  king  said,  "  Dummling, 
it  is  time  you  were  starting  out  in  the  world. 
Perhaps  you  may  at  least  find  your  brothers." 

Dummling  did  find  them  after  a  time. 
They  were  poor  as  ever.  How  they  jeered 
when  Dummling  said  he  had  come  to  seek  his 


60 


fortune !      But    they    all   three  went    on   to- 
gether till  they  came  to  an  ant-hill. 

"  What  sport !  "  cried  the  eldest.     "  Let  us 
stir  up  this  ant-hill.  " 


JJ^P'p^gjB^ 


"  Yes,"  said  the  second  brother.  "  It  will 
be  jolly  sport  to  see  the  ants  carrying  off 
their  eggs." 

But  Dummling  stepped  before  them,  saying, 


61 

"  Leave  the  poor  little  ants  alone.  I  will  not 
let  you  harm  them." 

Further  on  they  came  to  a  lake,  where  a 
number  of  ducks  were  swimming  about. 

"  Let  us  catch  a  few,"  said  the  eldest. 

"  Yes,  and  roast  them,"  added  the  second 
brother.       "I  was  always  fond  of  roast  duck." 

But  Dummling  cried,  "  Leave  the  ducks 
alone.      I  will  not  let  you  kill  them." 

Presently  they  came  to  a  bees'  nest  in  a 
tree.  The  bees  had  stored  so  much  honey 
that  it  overflowed  and  ran  down  the  trunk. 

"How  I  like  honey!"  cried  the  eldest. 
"  But  the  bees  would  sting  us  badly,  should 
we  try  to  get  it." 

"  Let  us  build  a  fire  under  the  tree,"  said  the 
second  brother.  "The  smoke  will  stifle  the  bees, 
and  then  we  can  get  the  honey  with  ease." 

But  a  third  time  Dummling  stood  in  their 
way.  "  Leave  the  poor  bees  alone.  I  will  not 
let  vou  stifle  them." 

At  last  the  three  brothers  came  to  an  en- 
chanted castle.     They  went  through  the  great 


'     62 

rooms  till  finally  they  stood  before  a  door 
fastened  with  three  bolts.  In  the  middle  of 
the  door  was  a  small  window  through  which 
they  peeped. 

They  saw  a  small,  gray-haired  man  sitting 
at  a  table.  They  called  to  him  several  times, 
but  he  did  not  hear.  At  last  Dummling  called 
alone  and  the  small  man  heard.  He  undid 
the  bolts  and  came  out. 

Silently  he  led  them  to  a  table  spread  with 
delicious  food.  When  they  had  finished  their 
meal,  he  led  them  each  to  a  bedroom. 

In  the  morning  the  small  man  awoke  the 
eldest  brother.  He  led  him  to  a  table  of  stone 
on  which  was  some  writing.  The  writing  told 
of  the  three  tasks  by  which  the  castle  could 
be  freed  from  its  enchantment. 

The  eldest  brother  read  thus :  "  Under  the 
moss  in  the  castle  forest  are  hidden  the  pearls 
of  the  princess.  They  number  one  thousand. 
He  who  would  free  the  castle  from  its  spell 
must  first  collect  these.  If  he  who  undertakes 
to  gather  them  has  not  finished  his  task  by 


63 

sunset,  —  if  but  one  pearl  is  missing,  —  he 
must  be  turned  to  stone." 

The  eldest  brother  went  to  the  forest  and 
searched  all  day.  But  at  sunset  he  had  found 
only  one  hundred  pearls;  so  he  was  turned  to 
stone. 

Next  morning  the  small  gray  man  awoke 
the  second  brother  and  led  him  also  to  the 
table  of  stone.  The  second  brother  undertook 
the  task,  but  he  fared  very  little  better  than 
the  first.  He  collected  but  two  hundred  pearls, 
and  so,  at  sunset,  he  also  was  turned  to  stone. 

Now  came  Dummling's  turn.  He  began  to 
search  in  the  moss,  but  he  soon  lost  heart. 
Sitting  down  on  a  stone,  he  began  to  weep. 
While  he  was  weeping,  the  ant  king  with  five 
thousand  ants  came  to  his  help.  Soon  these 
tiny  creatures  had  gathered  all  the  pearls  into 
a  beautiful  shining  heap  at  Dummling's  feet. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  dear  ants,"  he 
said.     "  You  have  saved  my  life." 

"You  saved  our  lives,  Dummling,  a  few 
days  ago.     We  never  forget  our  friends." 


64 


Next  morning  Dummling  read  on  the  stone 
table :  "  He  who  would  free  the  castle  from 
enchantment  must  find  the  key  of  the  Prin- 


cess's  sleeping   room   in   the   depths   of   the 
castle  lake." 

Dummling  walked  down  to  the  castle  lake 
and   his   heart    was   heavy.     The    lake   was 


65 

miles  across.  "  If  I  should  dive  a  dozen 
times  an  hour  from  now  till  sunset,  I  should 
never  find  that  key.  By  six  to-night  I  too 
shall  be  stone." 

He  was  about  to  weep  when  suddenly  a 
company  of  ducks  came  swimming  towards 
him.  Again  and  again  they  stopped  to  dive. 
Soon  one  swam  towards  him  with  a  large 
golden  key  in  his  bill. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  dear  ducks,"  cried 
Dummling.     "  You  have  saved  my  life." 

"  You  saved  our  lives,  Dummling,  a  few 
days  ago.     We  never  forget  our  friends." 

The  third  morning  Dummling  read  the  last 
and  hardest  task  on  the  stone  table  :  "  In 
the  room  opened  by  the  golden  key  three 
princesses  lie  asleep.  Before  resting,  each 
had  eaten  a  different  sweetmeat,  —  the  eldest 
a  lump  of  sugar ;  the  second,  a  little  sirup  ; 
and  the  third,  a  spoonful  of  honey.  He  who 
would  free  the  castle  must  choose  the  young- 
est and  loveliest  of  the  three." 

As  Dummling  entered  the  room  he  thought 

coe's  third  r.  —  5 


66 

that  his  task  was  hopeless.  The  princesses 
were  exactly  alike  and  so  dazzling  in  their 
beauty  that  the  poor  youth  could  scarcely  look 
at  them.     "  At  last  I  shall  fail,"  he  thought. 

Just  then,  through  the  open  window  came 
flying  the  Queen  Bee.  Dummling  held  his 
breath,  as  he  watched  her.  She  lighted  on 
the  rosy  lips  of  each  princess  in  turn.  Fi- 
nally she  settled  on  the  lips  of  her  who  had 
eaten  the  honey. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  dear  Queen  Bee," 
cried  Dummling.     "  You  have  saved  my  life." 

"You  saved  our  lives,  Dummling,  a  few  days 
ago.     We  bee  people  never  forget  our  friends." 

Then  Dummling  took  the  youngest  prin- 
cess by  the  hand  and  at  once  the  spell  was 
broken.  All  awoke  from  their  stony  sleep. 
The  two  brothers  also  took  their  right  form 
again. 

Dummling  married  the  youngest  princess 
and  became  king  of  the  country.  His  two 
brothers  married  the  two  other  sisters,  but 
stayed  princes  all  their  lives. 


blos'somed 


67 
LITTLE  MAY 
drow'sy 


re  peat/ 


Have  you  heard  the  waters  singing, 

Little  May, 
Where  the  willows  green  are  bending 

O'er  their  way  ? 


68 

Do  you  know  how  low  and  sweet, 
O'er  the  pebbles  at  their  feet, 
Are  the  words  the  waves  repeat, 
Night  and  day  ? 

Have  you  heard  the  robins  singing, 

Little  one, 
When  the  rosy  dawn  is  breaking,  — 

When  'tis  done  % 
Have  you  heard  the  wooing  breeze, 
In  the  blossomed  orchard  trees, 
And  the  drowsy  hum  of  bees 

In  the  sun  % 

All  the  earth  is  full  of  music, 

Little  May,  — 
Bird,  and  bee,  and  water  singing 

On  its  way. 
Let  their  silver  voices  fall 
On  thy  heart  with  happy  call : 
"  Praise  the  Lord  who  loveth  all," 

Night  and  day, 

Little  May. 

—  Emily  Huntington  Millhr. 


69 

A  NIGHT'S  ADVENTURE   ON   THE   OHIO 
RIVER 

AN  INCIDENT  OF  THE   FLOOD   OF   1832 

com  pre  hend'ed  Cin  cin  na'ti     sur  round'ed 

dis  tinct'ly  en  cour'aged    pro  ceed'ed 

a  void'ing  crouched         -  refuge 

ap  peared'  ex  er'tions         ex  pect'ed 

"  The  river  rises  fast,  wife,"  said  Jack  Martin. 
"  It  is  almost  up  to  the  top  of  the  bank  now." 

"  Do  you  think  there  is  any  danger  %  "  asked 
Mrs.  Martin. 

"  No  ;  the  river  will  go  down  as  it  came  up, 
when  it  is  ready.     Come  in !  " 

A  boy  of  thirteen  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  Mother  is  sick,  Mrs.  Martin,"  he  said,  "  and 
she  sent  me  to  ask  you  to  come  over." 

"Well,  I  expected  it,"  said  Mrs.  Martin. 
"  What  shall  I  do  1  " 

"  Go,  of  course,"  said  her  husband.  "  I  will 
put  Dolly  into  the  wagon  and  we  will  go  by 
the  upper  road  and  take  the  doctor  in." 

"  But  the  children,  father." 


70 

"  Now,  don't  worry,  Molly.  Sally  can  take 
care  of  the  baby,  and  I  shall  not  be  gone 
more  than  an  hour.  You  can  get  along,  can't 
you,  Sally?" 

"  I  think  so,"  was  the  smiling  reply  of  a 
bright-eyed  girl  of  thirteen. 

After  her  parents  had  gone,  Sally  proceeded 
to  wash  up  the  tea  things.  Will,  a  boy  of 
nine,  got  out  his  slate  and  arithmetic  and  be- 
gan to  cipher. 

Thus  an  hour  passed.  The  baby  awoke 
and  was  fed.  Then  the  older  children  pre- 
pared for  bed. 

Usually  they  slept  in  the  loft,  but  to-night 
they  had  been  told  to  sleep  below  with  the 
baby.  They  rolled  a  large  log  on  the  fire  and 
put  a  candle  in  the  lantern,  before  undressing. 
Soon  after  they  were  sound  asleep. 

Suddenly  Sally  was  awakened  by  she  knew 
not  what.  There  was  a  groaning,  creaking 
noise,  and  she  thought  she  felt  the  house  move. 

Without  waking  William,  she  sprang  out 
upon  the  floor  and  ran  toward  the  fireplace. 


71 

As  she  reached  it  her  feet  splashed  in  water. 
Quick  as  light  the  thought  came,  "  The  river 
is  up !  "  She  groped  for  a  candle,  touched  it 
to  a  coal,  and  had  a  light. 

A  quick  glance  told  her  what  was  the  matter. 
The  hearth  had  sunk  several  inches  below  the 
floor  of  the  room.  Up  through  the  crevices 
came  the  water. 

Raising  the  window  curtain,  Sally  gazed  out. 
The  house  was  surrounded  by  water.  The 
waves  were  washing  up  against  it  and  over  the 
doorstep.  As  far  as  her  eyes  could  see  was 
water,  only  water,  with  trees  standing  in  it. 

Running  to  the  bed,  she  shook  Will.  "  Get 
up,  Will,  get  up !  The  river  is  all  around  the 
house."  The  boy  sat  up,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and 
then  sank  back  again.  "  Get  up,  Will,  do  get 
up!  Don't  you  hear?  The  river  is  coming 
into  the  house  !  " 

Will  comprehended  at  last,  and  while  put- 
ting on  his  clothes,  ran  to  the  window. 

"  What  are  we  to  do  ?  "  he  asked.  "  If 
father  were  only  here !  " 


72 

"We  must  go  to  the  loft  and  wait  until 
father  comes,"  she  answered. 

Taking  the  baby  in  her  arms,  she  climbed 
the  stairway  and  laid  it  on  her  bed.  Then 
they  carried  to  the  loft  all  the  articles  they 
could  move,  not  forgetting  some  bread  and  a 
crock  of  milk  for  the  baby.  They  then  took 
refuge  there  themselves. 

Wrapped  in  comforters,  they  held  each  other 
close,  not  daring  to  go  to  bed.  They  crouched 
near  one  of  the  windows.  It  was  not  a  dark 
night,* and  they  could  see  that  the  water  spread 
over  the  meadows  almost  to  the  hills. 

The  little  wooden  clock  on  the  mantel  shelf 
below  struck  two.  Soon  after  there  was  a  great 
noise,  as  of  something  tearing  away,  —  a  jar- 
ring and  a  jerking.  The  house  swayed  to  and 
fro  and  went  down  one  side  and  up  the  other. 
The  children  covered  up  their  heads  and  clung 
closer  to  each  other. 

A  moment  more  and  all  was  quiet  again. 
Presently  Sally  stood  up  and  said,  "  We  are 
moving,  Will ;    the  house  is  moving !  " 


73 

She  ran  to  the  front  window  and  looked 
out.     They  were  afloat  on  the  broad  Ohio. 

Will  saw  the  terror  in  Sally's  face.  Cling- 
ing close  to  her,  he  said  softly,  "  Don't  cry, 
Sally!      God  will  help  us." 

Somewhat  herself  again,  Sally  took  the 
baby  up  and  fed  it.  Then  she  crept  to  the 
window  again  with  Will. 

"  It  will  soon  be  morning,"  he  said. 

"  Then  the  people  will  see  us  and  come  to 
take  us  away,"  was  her  reply. 

The  clock  had  struck  four.  Dark  objects 
went  swiftly  by  them.  Every  little  while  the 
house  would  dip  and  rock,  as  a  log  or  tree 
struck  it. 

Five  o'clock  struck,  and  then  six.  They 
began  to  see  objects  distinctly  in  the  dawning 
light. 

"  See,"  cried  Will,  "  there  is  a  coop  full  of 
chickens ! " 

"  There  is  a  dog  house  turned  upside  down 
and  the  poor  dog  is  clinging  to  the  outside 
w^ith  his  paws.     He  is  chained  to  it." 


74 

"  Oh  !  "  Some  large  object  had  struck  the 
house  and  the  children  were  thrown  upon  the 
floor. 

With  the  light,  all  Sally's  energy  came 
back  to  her.  Taking  the  sheets  off  the  bed, 
she  fastened  them  to  a  couple  of  slats  which 
she  nailed  to  the  window  sill.  This  was 
what  she  had  seen  people  do  on  the  river 
bank  when  they  wished  a  steamboat  to  stop. 

An  hour  passed.  Sally  was  almost  frantic. 
She  had  seen  people  making  signals  to  them, 
but  none  came  to  help. 

"  We  are  coming  to  a  town.  This  must  be 
Cincinnati.  See  the  houses  !  "  Sally  leaned 
out  the  window,  shrieking  for  aid. 

"  Put  the  baby  down,  Will,  and  come  and 
wave,"  she  said.     Will  obeyed. 

"  They  see  us !  Why  don't  they  help  us ! 
It  is  Cincinnati !     See  the  boats !  " 

People  saw  and  shouted  to  them,  but 
seemed  to  have  no  power  to  reach  them. 
The  children  increased  their  exertions,  en- 
couraged by  the  knowledge  that   they   were 


75 


seen.     Sally  brought  the  baby  from  the  bed 
and  held  it  up. 

Presently  a  large  boat  came  towards  them. 
Slowly  and  steadily  it  moved  in  and  out, 
avoiding  the 
driftwood  float- 
ing by.  A  few 
lengths  and  it 
would  be  beside 
the  house. 

Just  then  a 
huge  saw  log 
was  struck  by 
something  and 
dashed  into  the 
side  of  the  dwell- 
ing. A  shriek 
was  given  by 
the  lookers-on 
as  the  children 
disappeared.  By  a  few  clever  strokes  the  boat 
gained  the  side  of  the  ruin.  One  of  the  crew 
climbed    to    the  window  where   the   children 


76 

had  again  appeared,  and  lifted  them  out. 
A  moment  more  and  the  house  fell  over  on 
its  side. 

"  I    thought    God  would  take  care  of  us," 
whispered  Will  to  Sally. 

—  Martha  M.  Thomas. 

WE   ARE   SEVEN 

ker'chief  por'rin  ger  rus'tie 

A  simple  child, 
That  lightly  draws  its  breath, 
And  feels  its  life  in  every  limb, 
What  should  it  know  of  death  % 

I  met  a  little  cottage  girl ; 
She  was  eight  years  old,  she  said ; 
Her  hair  was  thick  with  many  a  curl 
That  clustered  round  her  head. 

She  had  a  rustic,  woodland  air, 
And  she  was  wildly  clad : 
Her  eyes  were  fair,  and  very  fair; 
—  Her  beauty  made  me  glad. 


77 


"  Sisters  and  brothers,  little  maid, 
How  many  may  you  be  ?  " 

"  How  many  ?    Seven  in  all," 

she  said, 
And    wondering,    looked    at 
me. 


"  And  where  are  they  1    I  pray  you  tell." 
She  answered,  "  Seven  are  we ; 
And  two  of  us  at  Conway  dwell, 
And  two  are  gone  to  sea. 


78 

"  Two  of  us  in  the  churchyard  lie, 
My  sister  and  my  brother ; 
And,  in  the  churchyard  cottage,  I 
Dwell  near  them  with  my  mother." 

"  You  say  that  two  at  Conway  dwell, 
And  two  are  gone  to  sea, 
Yet  ye  are  seven  !  —  I  pray  you  tell, 
Sweet  maid,  how  this  may  be." 

Then  did  the  little  maid  reply, 
"  Seven  boys  and  girls  are  we ; 
Two  of  us  in  the  churchyard  lie 
Beneath  the  churchyard  tree." 

"  You  run  about,  my  little  maid, 
Your  limbs  they  are  alive ; 
If  two  are  in  the  churchyard  laid, 
Then  ye  are  only  five." 

"  Their  graves  are  green,  they  may  be  seen," 

The  little  maid  replied; 

"  Twelve   steps   or   more   from   my  mother's 

door, 
And  they  are  side  by  side. 


79 

"  My  stockings  there  I  often  knit, 
My  kerchief  there  I  hem  ; 
And  there  upon  the  ground  I  sit, 
And  sing  a  song  to  them. 

a  And  often  after  sunset,  Sir, 
When  it  is  light  and  fair, 
I  take  my  little  porringer, 
And  eat  my  supper  there. 

"The  first  that  died  was  little  Jane  ; 
In  bed  she  moaning  lay, 
Till  God  released  her  of  her  pain, 
And  then  she  went  away. 

"  So  in  the  churchyard  she  was  laid ; 
And,  when  the  grass  was  dry, 
Together  round  her  grave  we  played, 
My  brother  John  and  I. 

"  And  when  the  ground  was  white  with  snow, 

And  I  could  run  and  slide, 

My  brother  John  was  forced  to  go, 

And  he  lies  by  her  side." 


80 

"  How  many  are  you  then,"  said  I, 
"  If  they  two  are  in  heaven  1  " 
Quick  was  the  little  maid's  reply, 
"  0  Master!  we  are  seven." 

"  But  they  are  dead ;  those  two  are  dead ! 
Their  spirits  are  in  heaven !  " 
'Twas  throwing  words  away ;  for  still 
The  little  maid  would  have  her  will, 
And  said,  "  Nay,  we  are  seven !  " 

—  William  Wordsworth. 

SIGNS   OF   BABY 

rum'ble  dis  cov'ered  cu'ri  ous 

Er'ic  lul'la  by  plain'tive 

plen'ti  ful  aft'er  noons'         with'er  ing 

The  last  half  of  a  long  drive  always  seems 
much  longer  than  the  first.  That  is  what  the 
children  were  thinking  as  they  sat,  tired  and 
silent,  in  grandfather's  big  wagon,  and  won- 
dered why  the  railway  station  was  so  far  from 
the  farm.  But  away  in  the  western  plains  of 
America,  railways  are  not  so  plentiful  as  they 


81 

are  with  us ;  houses,  too,  are  sometimes  few 
and  far  between. 

Katie  gave  a  big  sigh  that  was  heard  even 
above  the  rumble  of  the  wagon,  as  they 
passed  a  bare  little  wooden  house,  rough  and 
unpainted.  Then  mamma  said  in  a  cheery 
voice,  just  as  if  she  were  not  a  bit  tired, 
"  There's  a  baby  in  that  house." 

"  Where  1     I  don't  see  one,"  said  Eric. 

"Look  at  the  clothesline,"  said  mamma, 
laughing.     "  On    Monday    afternoons    I    can 


always  tell  a  house  where  there  is  a  baby,  for 
all  the  little  clothes  are  hanging  out  from  the 
wash.  I  feel  sorry  for  a  house  where  I  don't 
see  signs  of  Baby." 

"  Why,  I  never  thought  of  looking,"  said 
Kate. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Eric. 

coe's  third  r.  —  6 


82 

Grandfather  laughed  quietly.  "  I'm  seventy 
years  old,  and  /  never  looked.  I'm  going  to 
begin  now." 

At  the  next  house  they  passed  there  were  no 
clothes  on  the  line ;  but  grandfather  nodded 
his  gray  head  and  remarked,  "  There's  a  baby 
in  that  house." 

"  Why,  I  don't  see  a  sign  of  one,"  said  Eric. 

"  I  see  a  sign,"  grandfather  said ;  and  he  let 
the  horses  walk  slowly  past  the  house. 

Then  Katie  saw  it.  "  There's  a  board  nailed 
across  the  kitchen  door  to  keep  him  from 
tumbling  out,"  she  cried ;  and  just  then  a 
round,  curly  head  with  two  big  brown  eyes 
appeared  above  the  board. 

"  Oh,"  said  Eric,  "  there  he  is,  sure  enough  ; 
I  was  looking  for  his  clothes !  " 

It  was  great  fun  after  that  watching  all  the 
houses  for  signs  of  a  baby. 

" Listen!  There's  a  baby  in  there,"  said 
mamma,  as  they  passed  a  bright  new  house, 
and  from  the  open  door  they  heard  a  low, 
sweet  lullaby  sung  by  a  woman's  voice. 


83 


"  Yes,  there's  a  baby,"  said  the  children.  — 
"Drive  gently,  grandfather;  he's  just  going 
to  sleep.     We  must  not  wake  him  up  again." 

At  another  house  grandfather  discovered  a 
sign,  and  such  a 
curious  one  that 
even  mother 
could  not  find 
it. 

"Are  you 
sure,  grand- 
father 1 "  Eric 
asked. 

"  Yes,  I  see 
it,"  was  all  he 
said  ;  and  he  let 
the  horses  stop 
for  a  drink, 
while  the  others 
looked  and  searched  with  keen  eyes. 

"  We  give  it  up ;  you  must  tell  us,"  they 
said  at  last.  And  then  he  pointed  with  his 
whip   to    a   bed    of  gay  poppies  where  little 


84 

heaps  of  the  bright  blossoms  were  lying  at  the 
side  withering  in  the  sun. 

"  Are  you  sure  about  that  sign  ? "  Eric 
asked. 

"  Yes,  quite  sure.  What  a  little  rogue  he 
is,  too,  to  pluck  all  those  flowers ! "  said 
grandfather.  "  But  if  you  won't  believe  my 
sign,  there's  another,"  he  went  on.  And  this 
time  he  pointed  to  a  little  straw  hat  lying  by 
the  roadside  with  a  handful  of  withered 
flowers  beside  it. 

It  was  Eric  who  discovered  the  last  sign  of 
all  as  they  drew  near  the  end  of  the  drive. 
They  were  passing  a  pretty  little  home  with  a 
pleasant  garden  in  front.  No  one  was  in 
sight.  Under  a  tree  lay  a  rocking-chair, 
which  had  been  tumbled  over;  and  nearer 
the  door  lay  a  piece  of  needlework,  which 
some  one  had  dropped.  These  were  Eric's 
signs,  but  the  others  would  not  believe  in 
them. 

Just  as  they  passed,  however,  they  heard 
the  plaintive  sound  of  a  baby's  sleepy  cry. 


85 

"  There,  now !  didn't  I  tell  you  ?  "  said  Eric, 
in  triumph. 

"  But  how  did  you  know  %  "  asked  Katie. 

"  Why,  don't  you  see,  when  he  began  to  cry, 
his  mother  jumped  up,  and  upset  her  chair, 
and  dropped  her  work  as  she  ran." 

But  now  the  long  drive  was  over,  and  the 
children  had  found  the  last  half  of  it  shorter 
than  the  first  after  all. 

MISS   CARELESS 
a  wry'    dis  or'der     plunged     un  com'fort  a  ble 

PART   I 

Miss  Careless  was  a  good  little  girl  who 
loved  her  papa  and  mamma  dearly.  But  she 
had  one  bad  fault.  She  took  no  care  of  any- 
thing. 

Now  her  parents  knew  that  she  should  learn 
order.  So,  to  their  sorrow,  they  often  had  to 
punish  her. 

If  her  bed  was  in  disorder,  she  was  forced  to 
wear  her  nightcap  all  day.     Every  time  she 


86 

upset  her  inkstand,  the  end  of  her  nose  was 
inked.  Whenever  she  left  her  handkerchief 
lying  about  the  house,  it  was  fastened  on  her 
back.  A  shoe  was  once  hung  there,  which 
had  been  found  astray  on  the  stairs. 

Careless  had  a  brother  Paul.  He  was  away 
from  home  in  a  boarding-school.  Sometimes 
he  had  a  holiday  at  home  and  then  how  happy 
Careless  was  to  play  with  him ! 

One  holiday  they  had  put  everything  out  of 
place  in  the  parlor  and  dining  room.  Miss 
Careless  was  told  that  she  must  not  leave  her 
room  all  the  next  morning. 

The  next  morning  the  rising  sun  found  her 
seated  on  her  bed  in  tears.  Her  room  was  to 
be  her  prison  till  dinner.  And  what  a  room  it 
was! 

Her  pretty  new  dress  was  in  a  corner,  half 
on  the  floor  and  half  on  a  chair.  One  of  her 
boots  was  under  the  bed  and  the  other  against 
the  door.  Two  gray  silk  gloves  were  on  each 
end  of  the  mantelpiece.  Last  of  all  her  little 
black  velvet  hat  was  lying  on  its  side  on  the 


87 

top  of  the  water  pitcher  with  its  great  white 
plume  falling. into  the  basin. 

"  How  unhappy  I  am ! "  cried  Careless. 
"  Oh,  why  won't  they  let  me  play  with  Paul  %  " 

The  fairy  Order  was  at  that  moment  mak- 
ing her  way  through  the  house.     She  opened 


the  door  and  came  into  the  room.     How  she 
frowned  at  the  disorder ! 

"  Are  you  not  ashamed  %  "  she  cried. 

"  Of  what,  madam  9  " 
Look  around  your  room !  " 


a 


88 

"  Well,  what  is  the  matter  with  it  1  " 

"  What !  don't  you  see  the  frightful  dis- 
order ?  There  is  not  a  single  garment  in  its 
place." 

"  Oh  !  that  doesn't  matter.  Paul  says  that 
it  makes  no  difference  where  we  put  our 
things  at  night,  so  long  as  we  find  them  in 
the  morning." 

"  So  you  think  it  makes  no  difference  where 
you  put  your  things ! "  cried  the  angry  fairy. 
"  Well,  you  shall  see." 

With  these  words  she  touched  the  child 
with  her  wand.  Behold !  little  Careless  flew 
into  pieces  in  every  direction.  The  head 
went  in  search  of  the  hat  on  the  water  pitcher. 
The  body  plunged  into  the  dress  across  the 
chair.  Each  foot  regained  its  boot,  the  one 
under  the  bed  and  the  other  against  the  door. 
The  hands  made  their  way  into  the  gloves  on 
each  end  of  the  mantelpiece.  It  all  happened 
in  an  instant. 

"  Now,"  said  the  fairy,  "  I  am  going  to  send 
Master  Paul  to   put  all  this   in  order.     You 


89 

shall  see  whether  it  makes  no  difference  where 
you  put  things." 

The  fairy  Order  went  down  into  the  court- 
yard, where  she  found  Paul. 

"  Go  upstairs  to  your  sister's  room.  She 
needs  you." 

PART   II 

Paul  obeyed  the  fairy  Order  and  went  to  find 
Miss  Careless.     He  saw  no  one  in  the  room. 

"  What  is  the  matter  1  Where  are  you  ?  " 
he  cried. 

"  Here,"  groaned  the  head.  "  Come  quickly 
to  my  help,  dear  Paul.  I  am  very  uncomfort- 
able on  this  water  pitcher." 

"No,  come  here,"  howled  the  body.  "I 
can't  bear  this  torture  ;  the  corner  of  the  chair 
goes  right  through  me." 

"  Don't  leave  me  under  the  bed,"  cried  the 
right  foot. 

"  I  am  here  by  the  door,"  said  the  left  foot. 

"Don't  forget  us  on  the  mantelpiece," 
shouted  the  hands. 

Paul  hastened  to  pick  up  the  feet,  hands, 


90 

and  head.  "Don't  worry,  sister,"  he  said,  "  I 
will  set  you  to  rights.  It  will  not  take  me 
long." 

Paul's  task  was  quickly  over.  Then  he 
raised  his  sister  on  her  feet  and  cried,  "There 
you  are ! " 

But  scarcely  had  he  looked  at  his  work 
than  he  uttered  a  loud  cry.  The  head  was 
turned  awry.  One  of  the  feet,  in  its  boot, 
hung  on  the  left  arm.  A  poor  little  hand  was 
in  the  place  of  one  foot.  How  Careless  stag- 
gered as  she  tried  to  walk  on  one  hand  and 
one  foot ! 

"  Oh !  Paul,  what  have  you  done  1 "  cried  the 
poor  little  girl.  She  tried  to  wipe  her  eyes, 
but  the  toe  of  her  boot  caught  in  her  hair. 

Paul  was  thunderstruck  at  what  he  had 
done.  He  pulled  with  all  his  might  at  his 
sister's  head,  hoping  to  put  it  in  the  right 
place. 

Alas !  it  was  too  firmly  fixed.  Then  Paul, 
too,  burst  into  tears  and  cried  and  sobbed 
with  Careless. 


91 

Doctors  were  sent  for,  but  they  could  do 
nothing.  Everybody  talked  at  once.  Such 
an  uproar  as  there  was! 

Suddenly  the  fairy  Order  appeared. 

"  Well,"  she  said  to  Careless,  "  do  you 
think  now  that  it  makes  no  difference  where 
you  put  your  things  1  I  will  forgive  you  this 
once,  but  you  must  never  forget  this  terrible 
lesson." 

The  fairy  then  touched  the  little  girl  with 
her  wand.  Instantly  head,  body,  feet,  and 
hands  found  their  right  places. 

After  this  Careless  became  most  neat  and 

careful.     When  she  grew  up,  the  fairy  Order 

married  her  to  a  prince  who  wished  to  have 

his  house  kept  in  perfect  order.     The  prince 

was  more  pleased  with  her  neatness  than  with 

her  beautiful  face. 

Careless  had  learned  her  lesson  well. 

—  Mace. 


92 

THE   FAIRIES 
Co  lumb'kill  crisp'y  Slieve'  league 

Up  the  airy  mountain, 

Down  the  rushy  glen, 
We  daren't  go  a-hunting 

For  fear  of  little  men ; 
Wee  folk,  good  folk, 

Trooping  all  together ; 
Green  jacket,  red  cap, 

And  white  owl's  feather ! 

Down  along  the  rocky  shore 

Some  make  their  home ; 
They  live  on  crispy  pancakes 

Of  yellow  tide  foam  ; 
Some  in  the  reeds 

Of  the  black  mountain  lake, 
With  frogs  for  their  watchdogs, 

All  night  awake. 

Higli  on  the  hilltop 
The  old  king  sits ; 


93 

He  is  now  so  old  and  gray, 

He's  nigh  lost  his  wits. 
With  a  bridge  of  white  mist 

Columbkill  he  crosses, 
On  his  stately  journeys 

From  Slieveleague  to  Rosses ; 
Or  going  up  with  music 

On  cold  starry  nights, 
To  sup  with  the  queen 

Of  the  gay  Northern  Lights. 

They  stole  little  Bridget 

For  seven  years  long ; 
When  she  came  down  again, 

Her  friends  were  all  gone. 
They  took  her  lightly  back, 

Between  the  night  and  morrow ; 
They  thought  that  she  was  fast  asleep, 

But  she  was  dead  with  sorrow. 
They  have  kept  her  ever  since 

Deep  within  the  lakes, 
On  a  bed  of  flag  leaves, 

Watching  till  she  wakes. 


94 

By  the  craggy  hillside, 

Through  the  mosses  bare, 
They  have  planted  thorn  trees 

For  pleasure  here  and  there. 
Is  any  man  so  daring 

As  dig  them  up  in  spite  ? 
He  shall  find  their  sharpest  thorns 

In  his  bed  at  night. 

Up  the  airy  mountain, 

Down  the  rushy  glen, 
We  daren't  go  a-hunting 

For  fear  of  little  men  ; 
Wee  folk,  good  folk, 

Trooping  all  together ; 
Green  jacket,  red  cap, 

And  white  owl's  feather ! 

—  William  Allingham. 


95 


pet'  ti  coat 
duf  fle 


"SO-SO" 

quar'  rel  ing 
dis  grace' 


ex  act'  ly 
quilt'  ed 


PART  I 

"  Be  sure,  my  child,"  said  the  widow  to  her 
little  daughter,  "  that  you  always  do  just  as 
you  are  told." 

"  Very  well,  mother. " 

"  Or  at  any   rate  do   what  will  do  just  as 


96 

well/'  said  the  small  house  dog,  as  he  lay 
blinking  at  the  fire. 

"  You  darling !  "  cried  little  Joan,  and  she 
sat  down  on  the  hearth  and  hugged  him. 

"  What  a  dear,  kind  house  dog  you  are !  " 
She  meant  what  she  said,  for  it  does  feel  nice 
to  have  the  sharp  edges  of  one's  duty  a  little 
softened  off  for  one. 

He  was  no  particular  kind  of  dog,  but  he 
was  very  smooth  to  stroke,  and  had  a  nice  way 
of  blinking  with  his  eyes.  So  he  was  called 
So-So  ;  and  a  very  nice  soft  name  it  is. 

The  widow  was  only  a  poor  woman,  but  she 
managed  by  her  work  to  get  many  little  com- 
forts for  herself  and  child. 

One  day,  as  she  was  going  out,  she  said  to 
her  little  daughter,  "  I  am  going  out  for  two 
hours.  Shut  the  house  door  and  bolt  the  big- 
wooden  bar,  and  be  sure  that  you  do  not  open 
it  for  any  reason  whatever  till  I  return.  If 
strangers  come,  So-So  may  bark,  which  he  can 
do  as  well  as  a  bigger  dog.  Then  they  will 
go  away. 


97 

"  With  this  summer's  savings  I  have  bought 
a  quilted  petticoat  for  you  and  a  duffle  cloak 
for  myself.  If  I  get  the  work  I  am  going  after 
to-day,  I  shall  buy  enough  wool  to  knit  warm 
stockings  for  us  both.  So  be  patient  till  I 
return,  and  then  we  will  have  the  plum  cake 
that  is  in  the  cupboard  for  tea." 

"  Thank  you,  mother." 

"  Good-by,  my  child.  Be  sure  you  do 
just  as  I  have  told  you,"  said  the  widow. 

"  Very  well,  mother." 

Little  Joan  shut  the  house  door,  and  fas- 
tened the  big  bolt.  The  kitchen  looked 
gloomy  when  she  had  done  it. 

"  I  wish  mother  had  taken  us  all  three  with 
her.  She  could  have  locked  the  house  and 
put  the  key  in  her  big  pocket,"  said  little  Joan, 
as  she  got  into  the  rocking-chair,  to  put  her 
doll  asleep. 

"Yes,  it  would  have  been  just  as  well,"  So- 
So  replied. 

By  and  by  Joan  grew  tired  of  hushabying 
the  doll.     She  took  the  three-legged  stool  and 

coe's  third  r. —  7 


98 

sat  down  in  front  of  the  clock  to  watch  the 
hands.     After  a  while  she  drew  a  deep  sigh. 

"  There  are  sixty  seconds  in  every  minute, 
So-So,"  said  she. 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  said  So-So. 

"  And  sixty  whole  minutes  in  every  hour, 
So-So." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  "  growled  So-So.  He 
was  snuffing  in  every  corner  of  the  kitchen, 
looking  for  something  to  eat.  At  last  he 
stood  snuffing  under  the  house  door. 

"  The  air  smells  fresh,"  he  said. 

"  It's  a  beautiful  day,  I  know,"  said  little 
Joan.  "  I  wish  mother  had  allowed  us  to  sit 
on  the  doorstep.  We  could  have  taken  care 
of  the  house." 

"  Just  as  well,"  said  So-So. 

Little  Joan  came  to  smell  the  air  at  the  key- 
hole, and,  as  So-So  had  said,  it  smelt  very 
fresh.  Besides,  one  could  see  from  the  window 
how  fine  the  evening  was. 

"  It's  not  exactly  what  Mother  told  us  to 
do,"  said  Joan,  "  but  I  do  believe  "  — 


99 


PART   II 


By  and  by  little  Joan  unfastened  the  bar, 
and  opened  the  door,  and  she  and  the  doll 
and  So-So  went  out  and  sat  on  the  door- 
step. 

"  It  does  just  as  well,  and  better,"  said  little 
Joan,  "for  if  any  one  comes  we  can  see  him 
coming  up  the  field  path." 

"  Just  so,"  said  So-So,  blinking  in  the  sun- 
shine. 

Suddenly  Joan  jumped  up. 

"  Oh !  "  cried  she,  "  there's  a  bird,  a  big 
bird.  Dear  So-So,  can  you  see  him  ?  I  can't 
because  of  the  sun.  What  a  queer  noise  he 
makes.  Crake  !  crake !  Oh,  I  can  see  him 
now !  He  is  not  flying,  he  is  running,  and  he 
has  gone  into  the  corn.  I  do  wish  I  were  in 
the  corn,  I  would  catch  him  and  put  him  in  a 
cage." 

"  I'll  catch  him,"  said  So-So.  He  put  up  his 
tail,  and  started  off. 

"  No,  no,"  cried  Joan.      "  You  are  not  to 


100 

go.  You  must  stay  and  take  care  of  the  house, 
and  bark  if  any  one  comes." 

"  You  could  scream,  and  that  would  do 
just  as  well,"  replied  So-So,  with  his  tail 
still  up. 

"  No,  it  wouldn't,"  cried  little  Joan.. 

"  Yes,  it  would,"  said  So-So. 


Whilst  they  were  quarreling,  an  old  woman 
came  up  to  the  door.  She  had  a  brown  face, 
and  black  hair,  and  a  very  old  red  cloak. 

".Good  evening,  my  little  dear,"  said  she. 
"  Are  you  all  at  home  this  evening  ?  " 

"  Only  three  of  us,"  said  Joan :  "  T,  and  my 
doll,  and  So-So.      Mother   has    gone  to  the 


101 

town  on  business,  and  we  are •  taking  x&hre>Jbf 
the  house,  but  So-So  wants  to  go  after  the 
bird  we  saw  run  into  the  corn." 

"  Was  it  a  pretty  bird,  my  little  dear  ?  " 
asked  the  old  woman. 

"  It  was  a  very  curious  one,  "  said  Joan, 
"and  I  should  like  to  go  after  it  myself,  but 
we  can't  leave  the  house." 

"  I  have  some  distance  to  go  this  evening," 
said  the  old  woman,  "  but  I  do  not  object  to  a 
few  minutes'  rest.  I  will  sit  on  the  doorstep 
to  oblige  you,  while  you  run  down  to  the  corn- 
field." 

"  But  can  you  bark  if  any  one  comes?" 
asked  little  Joan.  "  For  if  you  can't,  So-So 
must  stay  with  you." 

"  I  can  call  you  and  the  dog  if  I  see  any  one 
coming,  and  that  will  do  just  as  well,"  said  the 
woman. 

"  So  it  will,"  replied  little  Joan  ;  and  off  she 
ran  to  the  cornfield,  where  So-So  had  run  be- 
fore her.  He  was  bounding  and  barking  and 
springing  among  the  wheat  stalks. 


;  '«■       ■  v   :  :•  :  <tc<     102 

They  did  wot*  catcli  the  bird,  though  they 
stayed  longer  than  they  had  intended. 

"  I  daresay  mother  has  come  home,"  said 
little  Joan,  as  they  went  back  up  the  field- 
path.  "  I  hope  she  won't  think  we  ought  to 
have  stayed  in  the  house." 

"  It  was  well  taken  care  of,"  said  So-So, 
"  and  that  must  do  just  as  well." 

When  they  reached  the  house,  the  widow 
had  not  come  home. 

But  the  old  woman  had  gone,  and  she  had 
taken  the  quilted  petticoat  and  the  duffle 
cloak,  and  the  plum  cake  from  the  top  shelf 
away  with  her.  No  more  was  ever  heard  of 
any  of  them. 

"  For  the  future,  my  child,"  said  the  widow, 
"  I  hope  you  will  always  do  just  as  you  are 
told,  whatever  So-So  may  say." 

"  I  will,  mother,"  said  Joan.  But  the 
house  dog  sat  and  blinked.  He  dared  not 
speak ;  he  was  in  disgrace. 

I  do  not  feel  quite  sure  about  So-So.  Wild 
dogs  often  mend  their  ways,  and  the  faithful 


103 

sometimes  fall ;  but  when  any  one  begins  by 
being  only  So-So,  he  is  very  apt  to  be  So-So 
to  the  end.     So-Sos  so  seldom  change. 

But  this  one  was  very  soft  and  nice,  and  he 
got  no  cake  that  tea  time.  On  the  whole,  we 
shall  hope  that  he  lived  to  be  a  Good  Dog 
ever  after. 

—  Juliana  Horatia  Ewing. 


ROBIN   REDBREAST 

Good-by,  good-by  to  summer ! 

For  summer's  nearly  done ; 
The  garden  smiling  faintly, 

Cool  breezes  in  the  sun ; 
Our  thrushes  now  are  silent, 

Our  swallows  flown  away,  — 
But  Robin's  here  with  coat  of  brown, 

And  ruddy  breast  knot  gay. 
Robin,  Robin  Redbreast, 

0  Robin  dear! 
Robin  sings  so  sweetly 

In  the  falling  of  the  year. 


104 


Bright   yellow,    red,    and 

orange, 
The  leaves  come  down  in 

hosts ; 
The     trees      are     Indian 

princes, 
But  soon  they'll  turn    to 

ghosts ; 
The     scanty    pears     and 

apples 
Hang  russet  on  the  bough  j 
It's  autumn,  autumn,  au- 
tumn late, 
'Twill  soon  be  winter  now. 
Robin,  Robin  Redbreast, 
O  Robin  dear ! 
Robin  sings  so  sweetly 
In  the  falling  of  the  year. 
What  now  will  this  poor 

Robin  do  ? 
For    pinching    days     are 

near. 


105 

The  fireside  for  the  cricket, 

The  wheat  stack  for  the  mouse, 
When  trembling  night  winds  whistle 

And  moan  all  round  the  house. 
The  frosty  ways  like  iron, 

The  branches  plumed  with  snow,  — 
Alas  !  in  winter  dead  and  dark, 

Where  can  poor  Eobin  go  ? 
Robin,  Eobin  Redbreast, 

0  Robin  dear! 
And  a  crumb  of  bread  for  Robin 

His  little  heart  to  cheer ! 

—  William  Allingham. 

A   HOLIDAY   HUNT 

hol'i  day  in  ter  rupt'ed  de  liv'er  ers 

pur  suit7  stifling  cap  tiv'i  ty 

slaughtered  de  fy'ing  Au  gus'tus 

fag'ots  challenge  Reg'i  nald 

"  Robert,  is  that  you  ? "  said  Mr.  Howard, 
coming  out  of  his  room. 

"  Yes,  father  ;  I  am  blowing  a  blast  with 


106 

my  cow  horn.  We  are  going  to  have  a 
hunt." 

"  I  must  beg,"  said  his  father,  "  that  you  will 
blow  through  no  cow  horns  in  this  house." 

"  May  I  in  the  garden  %  " 

"  As  much  as  you  please,  provided  I  am  not 
near  to  hear  it ;  but  now  go  along,  and  do 
not  make  a  noise,"  and  he  shut  the  door  of 
his  study. 

Bob's  blasts  brought  his  brothers  and 
sisters,  and  many  cousins  into  the  bargain, 
round  him,  for  the  house  was  full  of  cousins. 
All  the  cousins  were  come  for  three  whole 
days,  and  these  days  were  to  be  holidays. 

"  Let  us  see  how  many  there  are  of  us," 
said  Bob.  "  Anna,  Mary,  Philip,  Jane,  Kate, 
Reginald,  Carry,  Bob,  William,  and  Augus- 
tus.    But  where  are  Emma  and  Polly?" 

"  In  the  nursery,  counting  their  money 
boxes,"  cried  Philip.     "  I'll  fetch  them !  " 

"  Emma  and  Polly  make  twelve ;  Quiz 
makes  the  thirteenth." 

Quiz  was  all  the  time  whining  and  barking, 


107 

and  jumping  up  and  running  to  and  fro  in  the 
desire  to  be  off.  Augustus  Clifford  proposed 
that  six  should  be  hounds  and  six  deer.  All 
wished  to  be  hounds,  so  Bob  proposed  that 
they  should  draw  lots. 


Counting  their  Money  Boxes. 

"  I  will  tear  this  letter  in  strips,"  said  Wil- 
liam, "  and  write  our  names  upon  them. 
Then  we  will  draw.  The  first  name  is  to  be 
a  deer,  the  next  a  hound,  and  so  on." 


108 

Jane,  Mary,  Anna,  and  William  were  to  be 
hounds ;  Emma,  Kate,  Polly,  Reginald,  and 
Philip  were  to  be  deer. 

"  Come,  make  haste,"  said  William,  "  or  we 
shall  be  drawing  all  day.  The  next  is  to 
bunt" 

"  Draw,  Carry,"  said  Bob. 

"  Robert  and  Quiz,"  said  Caroline.  "  Let 
me  see  this  time:  Carry  —  I  myself!  I  am 
determined  I  shall  not  be  caught." 

Bob  drew  the  next  slip. 

"  Who  do  you  think  is  drawn  now  ?  "  he 
said,  looking  at  the  paper.      "  Augustus." 

"  Am  I  to  hunt  or  to  be  hunted  ?  "  asked 
Augustus. 

"  To  hunt." 

"I  am  certain  to  catch  you,  Carry,"  said 
Augustus. 

"  Well  see,"  said  Caroline. 

"You  must  give  us,"  said  Reginald,  "a 
start  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  By  all  means,"  said  William.  "A  quarter 
of  an  hour  is  none  too  much." 


109 

Bob,  who  was  always  for  giving  more  than 
was  asked,  said :  — 

"You  shall  have  twenty  minutes." 

"  That  will  do  famously,"  said  Carry. 

"  Has  any  one  a  watch  amongst  us  ?  "  asked 
Bob. 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  said  Philip.  "  Take  it,"  he 
said,  flinging  it  to  Robert. 

The  herd  of  deer  stepped  off  at  full  speed 
till  they  came  to  five  lanes.  Here  each  deer 
separated  and  took  a  lane.  Some  scrambled  up 
banks  and  made  their  way  across  the  country, 
and  Philip  took  the  direction  to  Lidwell. 

The  cow  horn  sounds  three  several  times : 
the  twenty  minutes  are  expired.  Bob  and  his 
crew  are  in  hot  pursuit.  How  many  a  deer 
will  be  slaughtered  to-day  ! 

"  Oh,  me,  I  hear  the  horn !  "  said  Caroline, 
leaning  over  a  gate,  "  and  I  feel  as  though 
I  shall  be  caught.  Augustus  will  think  of 
nothing  but  me." 

"And  I,"  answered  Emma  —  "oh,  where 
shall  I  go  ]     I  know  I  shall  be  caught." 


110 

"  Emma,  are  you  there  in  the  lane  1 "  said 
Caroline.  "  Come  with  me.  Pray  do  let  us 
share  our  fates  together." 

"  Oh,  yes,  let  us,"  said  Emma.  "  I  had 
rather  run  with  you,  for  I  am  so  frightened. 
If  I  am  caught,  I  know  I  shall  give  a  horrid 
scream  !  " 

"  I  shall  yell  outright,"  said  Carry,  climb- 
ing over  the  gate  and  joining  her  cousin  in 
the  lane. 

"Did  you  hear  some  voices  below?"  said 
Emma.  "I  am  quite  sure  I  heard  Augustus 
and  Bob." 

"  Yes,  and  Quiz,"  said  Caroline.  "  Follow, 
follow  me.  If  we  can  but  gain  the  cow  shed, 
we  can  hide  there." 

The  two  girls  ran  across  three  or  four 
fields,  and  arrived  panting  at  the  shed.  An 
old  woodman  stood  before  it. 

"  Hide  us  !  "  said  Carry. 

"  Hide  you,  miss  ?    What  are  you  afraid  of? " 

"  Oh,  hide  us,  hide  us,  or  we  shall  be  caught! " 

"  Creep,"  •  said     the     good-natured     man, 


Ill 

"  creep  through  that  hole  close  to  the  rabbits, 
and  I  will  cover  it  with  fagots.  They  shan't 
find  you  out." 

They  both  crept  panting  into  the  hole. 

"  Don't  tell  of  us." 

"Not  I,"  said  the  man,  laughing  at  the 
girls.  He  had  only  just  time  to  cover  them 
with  fagots,  when  Bob  and  Augustus  made 
their  appearance. 

"Here,  here!"  said  Bob  to  the  man,  who 
was  standing  with  a  few  fagots  in  his  hand. 

"  Hard  of  hearing,"  said  the  man,  pretend- 
ing to  be  deaf. 

"Have  you  seen  two  little  girls  %  "  screamed 
Bob  into  the  old  man's  ear. 

Carry  chuckled. 

"  Hard  of  hearing,"  again  answered  the  man. 

"  Very,  indeed,"  said  Bob.  "  Gussy,  speak 
to  him." 

"  Have  you  seen  two " 

"  Dogs  ?  "  interrupted  the  man. 

Carry  and  Emma  trembled  as  they  sat  on 
the  potato  heap  behind  the  fagots. 


112 

"  He  will  tell  them  all,"  said  Caroline  in  a 
whisper  to  Emma. 

Quiz,  while  this  conversation  was  going  on, 
jumped  up  and  tore  at  the  fagots,  barking 
most  furiously. 


"  That  horrid  Quiz  will  betray  us,"  whis- 
pered Emma. 

"I  am  afraid  so,"  said  Caroline. 

"  Call  your  dog  away,"  said  the  old  man  in 
a   gruff  voice,    addressing    himself  to     Quiz. 


113 

"  Don't  think  that  you  will  have  my  young 
rabbits." 

"  Dear  old  man  !  "  said  Carry.  "  I  could 
hug  him !  " 

"  He  means  us  by  his  young  rabbits,"  said 
Emma  in  a  whisper. 

"  Have  you  just  found  that  out  %  "  said 
Carry,  stifling  a  laugh. 

"  Don't,  don't  laugh,  pray,"  said  Emma. 

"If  I  get  home,"  whispered  Caroline,  "he 
shall  have  the  shilling." 

"  I  will  add  sixpence,"  said  Emma. 

"Now,  young  masters,  if  your  dog  kills  my 
rabbits,  I'll  knock  him  on  the  head." 

"And  I'll  knock  you,"  said  Augustus,  in 
great  wrath. 

"Hush!  "  said  Bob.  "How  can  you  speak 
so  to  an  old  man  ?  " 

"  Well,  but  I  do  not  think  he  heard  me," 
said  Augustus.     "  He  is  so  deaf." 

"He  did,  though,  Master  Gussy,"  whis- 
pered Caroline,  stuffing  her  hand  into  her 
mouth  to  prevent  laughing. 

coe's  third  r.  —  8 


114 

"  I  am  sure  I  saw  them  go  this  way,"  said 
Bob. 

"  So  did  I,"  said  Augustus ;  "  they  are  hard 
by,  depend  upon  it." 

Carry  gave  a  start,  and  down  fell  a  piece 

of  wood.     But  the  bovs  did  not  notice  it. 

«/ 

"I  would  give  something  to  have  a  hunt 
for  those  white  rabbits,"  said  Augustus. 

"  Now,  I  think  I  know  where  they  are," 
said  Bob.  "  They're  in  the  log  house  in  the 
wood  yonder.  Carry  dearly  loves  to  hide 
there,  because  it  is  so  difficult  to  climb." 

The  two  girls,  trembling  with  hope,  put 
both  their  hands  into  their  mouths  to  prevent 
laughing. 

"Come  along,"  said  Bob,  "and  we'll  look 
for  them  there." 

Quiz  was  not  to  be  made  a  fool  of.  He  did 
not  choose  to  follow  his  young  master  down 
the  hill,  as  he  knew  the  deer  were  in  the  hut. 
There  he  stood,  tearing  at  the  fagots,  and 
howling  and  barking. 

The  man  lifted  his  stick,  as  if  to  strike  the 


115 

dog,  and  Bob,  laughing,  said,  "  Catch  him, 
and  I  will  give  yon  leave  to  strike  him." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  old  man,  "  carry  him 
away  with  you,  for  I  am  afraid  for  my  young 
rabbits." 

"  Really,  he  is  a  dear  old  man,"  thought 
Carry. 

Eobert  and  Augustus  did  not  hear  what  he 
said,  for  they  were  on  their  way  to  the  log 
house.  The  old  man  opened  the  door  of  a 
tool  house  belonging  to  the  shed,  and  Quiz 
had  the  folly  to  run  into  it.  Thereupon  the 
man  popped  to  the  door,  and  left  Quiz  to 
howl  and  almost  choke  with  rage. 

When  Bob  and  Gussy  were  at  some  dis- 
tance, the  old  man  removed  the  fagots  and 
said,  "  Make  haste,  my  little  rabbits,  and 
away  home  with  you." 

"  Thank  you !  thank  you  a  thousand 
times !  "  said  they  both. 

"  Away,  away  with  you,  my  little  ladies !  " 
said  he.  "When  shall  I  let  out  the  dog? 
It's  a  nice  dog,  sure." 


116 

"  In  about  two  minutes,"  said  Cany,  "  or, 
rather,  now.  We  have  caught  him  ;  he  lias 
not  caught  us.     I  will  open  the  door." 

She  did  so,  and  Quiz,  jumping  up,  licked 
Carry's  face  for  this  kindness,  and  thought, 
"I  won't  catch  Emma  and  you."  Then  he 
danced  round  them  and  ran  off  in  pursuit  of 
his  master. 

Caroline  and  Emma  stood  upon  a  hillock 
at  a  little  distance  from  the  shed,  and  shouted 
out,  "  Bobby !  Gussy !  Gussy !  Bobby !  " 

The  boys,  who  heard  the  sounds,  turned 
round  and  beheld  them.  "  Look,  look  !  "  said 
Bob ;  "there  they  are  above  us,  defying  us." 

"  They  were  behind  the  fagots  all  the  time, 
I  will  answer  for  it,"  said  Augustus. 

Caroline  and  Emma  threw  down  their 
gloves  as  a  challenge  to  hunt  them.  Au- 
gustus set  off  after  them. 

"  After  them,  Quiz !  "  said  Bob. 

But  Quiz  had  too  much  honor  to  pursue  his 
deliverers  from  captivity.  He  turned  round, 
whining  softly,  as  if  he  meant  to  say,  "  I  shall 


117 

do  no  such  thing.  She  opened  the  door  of  the 
log  house  for  me." 

"  Well,  you  know  best,"  said  Bob,  laughing 
at  Quiz;  "but  we  will  away  to  the  log  house 
together.  There  may  be  some  sport  there. 
Gussy  won't  be  able  to  catch  them,  they  are 
so  far  before  him." 

Were  I  to  tell  vou  all  the  adventures  of  this 
hunt,  my  story  would  never  come  to  an  end. 
It  is  enough  to  know  they  all  returned  in 
safetv,  and  no  fox  hunters  on  the  finest 
horses  ever  enjoyed  a  hunt  more. 

THE   OWL  AND   THE   PUSSY-CAT 
gui  tar'  run'ci  ble  tar'ried 

The  Owl  and  the  Pussv-Cat  went  to  sea 

In  a  beautiful  pea-green  boat ; 
They  took  some  honey,  and  plenty  of  money 

Wrapped  up  in  a  five-pound  note. 

The  Owl  looked  up  to  the  moon  above, 
And  sang  to  a  small  guitar, 


118 


'  O  lovely  Pussy !  0  Pussy,  my  love, 
What  a  beautiful  Pussy  you  are,  — 

You  are, 
What  a  beautiful  Pussy  you  are ! " 


Pussy  said  to  the  Owl,  "  You  elegant  fowl ! 

How  wonderful  sweet  you  sing ! 
Oh,  let  us  be  married,  —  too  long  we  have  tar- 
ried, — 

Hut  what  shall  we  do  for  a  ring?  " 


119 

They  sailed  away  for  a  year  and  a  day 
To  the  land  where  the  Bong  tree  grows, 

And  there  in  the  wood,  a  piggy-wig  stood 
With  a  ring  in  the  end  of  his  nose,  — 

His  nose, 
With  a  ring  in  the  end  of  his  nose. 

"  Dear  Pig,  are  you  willing  to  sell  for  one 
shilling 
Your  ring  1 "     Said  the  piggy,  "  I  will." 
So  they  took  it  away,  and  were  married  next 
day 
By  the  turkey  who  lives  on  the  hill. 

They  dined  upon  mince  and  slices  of  quince, 
Which  they  ate  with  a  runcible  spoon. 

And  hand  in  hand  on  the  edge  of  the  sand 
They  danced  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  — 

The  moon, 
They  danced  by  the  light  of  the  moon. 

Edward  Lear. 


120 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS 
Wake  me  to-night,  my  mother  dear, 
That  I  may  hear 

The  Christmas  Bells,  so  soft  and  clear, 
To  high  and  low  glad  tidings  tell 
How  God  the  Father  loved  us  well. 

—  John  Keble. 

OLD  CHRISTMAS 
carle  a  nigh'  an'cient 

Now  he  who  knows  old  Christmas, 
He  knows  a  carle  of  worth ; 

For  he  is  as  good  a  fellow 
As  any  upon  the  earth. 


121 


He  comes  warm  cloaked  and  coated, 
And  buttoned  up  to  the  chin, 

And  soon  as  he  comes  anigh  the  door 
We  open  and  let  him  in. 


ta*\\*«  3.  S^wflV-i. 


We  know  that  he  will  not  fail  us, 
So  we  sweep  the  hearth  up  clean ; 

We  set  him  in  the  old  armchair, 
And  a  cushion  whereon  to  lean. 

And  with  sprigs  of  holly  and  ivy 
We  make  the  house  look  gay, 


122 

Just  out  of  old  regard  to  him, 
For  it  was  his  ancient  way. 

He  must  be  a  rich  old  fellow : 
What  money  he  gives  away ! 

There  is  not  a  lord  in  England 
Could  equal  him  any  day. 

Good  luck  unto  old  Christmas, 

And  long  life,  let  us  sing, 
For  he  doth  more  good  unto  the  poor 

Than  many  a  crowned  king ! 

—  Mary  Howitt. 

THE   TINY   MAHOGANY   BOX 
A   CHRISTMAS   STORY 

ma  hog'a  ny  o  be'di  ence  Sar  a  to'ga 

Dear,  bright-eyed,  laughing  children,  I  am 
going  to  tell  you  a  true  Christmas  story. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  were  two  little 
children  named  Elsie  and  Pearl.  They  lived 
in  a  small  white  house  in  the  country,  and  a 
very  nice   little   house   it   was,  too.     In   the 


123 


summer  time  gay  morning-glories  and  honey- 
suckles crept  all  over  the  windows,  so  that 
they  didn't  need 
a  bit  of  a  cur- 
tain. You  would 
have  liked  that, 
wouldn't  you  % 

The  mother 
of  Elsie  and 
Pearl  was  a 
poor  widow  who 
owned  nothing 
in  the  world  but 
the  cottage,  a 
cow,  and  some 
chickens.  She 
earned  her  living 
by  selling  milk 
and  eggs  to  the 
rich  people  who  came  to  spend  the  summer 
time  in  the  country. 

But  this  year  the  rich  people  did  not  come. 
They  went   to    Saratoga  instead.     Christmas 


- 

r 

>-.'^*'&m> 

-  kv^pf 

■ 

124 

Eve  found  the  poor  woman  without  any 
money.  She  could  not  buy  a  Christmas 
dinner ;  she  could  not  buy  presents  for  Elsie 
and  Pearl.  Wasn't  that  too  bad!  Not  a 
penny  on  Christmas  Eve,  of  all  times  in  the 
year ! 

The  children  had  gone  to  bed,  and  the  poor 
mother  sat  alone  in  the  room  that  served  for 
both  parlor  and  kitchen.  Would  you  like  to 
know  how  this  room  looked  %     I  will  tell  you. 

On  the  floor  was  a  warm  rag  carpet  made 
by  the  widow  and  Elsie  and  Pearl.  Around 
the  room  stood  four  wooden  chairs  and  a 
wooden  table,  scrubbed  as  white  as  new  milk. 
The  mantelshelf  was  very  high,  and  on  it 
stood  two  candlesticks,  a  clock,  and  a  tiny 
mahogany  box.  A  wood  fire  was  blazing  on 
the  hearth,  and  Elsie's  and  Pearl's  stockings 
were  hanging  one  on  each  andiron. 

They  had  gone  to  bed  believing  that  Santa 
Claus  would  bring  them  some  presents. 
While  the  mother  was  grieving  because  she 
could  not  go  to  the  new  store  in  the  village 


125 

to  buy  them  pretty  gifts,  they  were  smiling  in 
their  sleep.  They  were  dreaming  of  handfuls 
of  sugarplums  and  all  sorts  of  beautiful  toys. 

"  Ah !  "  thought  the  widow,  "  how  well  I 
remember,  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  running  to 
my  stocking  early  Christmas  morning.  Oh, 
my  dear  mother,  how  kind  she  was  !  And  to 
think  that  I  love  Elsie  and  Pearl  just  as  she 
loved  me,  and  yet  I  can  buy  them  nothing. 
I  declare  I  could  cry." 

And  she  did  cry,  throwing  her  checked 
apron  over  her  head  and  leaning  back  in  her 
rocking-chair.  Just  then  the  clock  struck 
seven,  and  the  tired  woman  fell  fast  asleep. 

She  had  a  beautiful  dream.  The  room  was 
suddenly  lighted  with  a  great  light,  and  her 
dear  mother  stood  before  her.  Her  dress  was 
white  as  a  snowflake,  and  the  old  sweet  smile 
was  on  her  lips. 

She  took  her  daughter's  hand  and  said,  very 
gently,  "  Child,  you  forget  that  God  is  watch- 
ing over  you.  Do  you  remember  the  little 
box  that  I  put  into  your  stocking  many  years 


126 

ago  ?  It  was  locked,  and  I  told  you  never  to 
open  it  unless  you  became  very,  very  poor. 
You  have  kept  your  promise  so  faithfully  that 
you  have  never  even  thought  of  opening  it. 
I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  you  may  unlock 
the  box.  But  never  again  lose  faith  in  your 
Father  above." 

The  widow  awoke,  but  she  remembered  all 
that  her  mother  had  said.  She  took  down  the 
tiny  box,  placed  it  on  the  table,  and  began 
looking  for  the  key.  At  last  it  tumbled  out 
of  an  old  black  silk  bag  that  she  found  in  a 
trunk. 

She  quickly  unlocked  the  box,  and  what  do 
you  think  she  saw  ? 

A  whole  row  of  gold  pieces,  lying  on  a  soft 
bed  of  cotton !  For  a  moment  the  widow 
could  not  move,  she  was  so  amazed.  Then 
she  fell  upon  her  knees  and  thanked  God. 

Quickly  she  put  on  her  thick  hood  and 
cloak  and  started  for  the  village  store. 
When  she  returned  she  had  her  arms  full  and 
a  bundle  tied  on  her  back. 


127 

Oh,  what  a  happy  little  house  that  was  on 
Christmas  morning !  Elsie  and  Pearl  were 
running  round  at  daybreak  to  see  what 
Santa  Claus  had  brought  them. 

Each  stocking  was  filled  so  full  with  sugar- 
plums, cakes,  oranges,  that  it  looked  as  though 
it  would  burst. 

Two  of  the  chairs  were  placed  close  together. 
On  the  back  of  one  hung  a  new  cloak  for  Elsie, 
and  on  the  back  of  the  other  a  new  cloak  for 
Pearl.  On  the  seat  of  one  lay  a  new  pair  of 
shoes  and  a  new  crimson  dress  for  Elsie,  and 
on  the  other,  new  shoes  and  a  crimson  dress 
for  Pearl. 

And  that  was  not  all.  On  the  white  wooden 
table  lay  a  plump  turkey,  some  nice  large 
potatoes,  and  a  plum  pudding.  And  the 
market  basket !  The  cover  couldn't  fit  on 
because  the  basket  was  so  crowded  with  par- 
cels of  raisins,  tea,  flour,  and  everything  good 
to  eat. 

So  you  see,  dear  children,  how  the  widow 
was  rewarded    for  her    obedience.     Had    she 


128 


broken   her   promise,    the    money    would  all 

have  been  spent.     She  would   have   had  no 

Christmas    dinner,    and    Elsie  and    Pearl  no 
Christmas  presents. 


—  Margaret  Eytinge. 

THE 

STORY   OF  WILLIAM  TELL 

ty'rant 

op  press'ing                  Gess'ler 

Aus'tri  a 

Switz'er  land                fu'ri  ous 

Across  the  sea  is  the  small  country  of 
Switzerland.  Though  small,  Switzerland  is 
very  beautiful.  It  has  lofty  mountains,  green 
valleys,  and  lakes  as  blue  as  the  sky. 

The  Swiss  love  their  country  dearly. 
They  are  proud  of  her,  too,  because  they 
have  made  and  kept  her  free. 

But  over  six  hundred  years  ago  Switzer- 
land was  not  free.  The  country  of  Austria 
was  oppressing  Switzerland  greatly.  Proud 
and  cruel  Austrians  were  to  be  found  in  the 
Swiss  cities. 

These  Austrians  ruled  the  people  harshly. 
One  of  these  rulers  was  named  Gessler. 


129 

Gessler  wanted  to  test  the  people  to  see 
who  were  friends  of  Austria  and  who  were 
not.  He  hung  the  Austrian  emperor's  hat 
on  a  tall  pole  in  the  market-place.  Then  he 
ordered  every  one  who  passed  to  bow  down 
before  it. 

Imagine  the  feelings  of  the  free  Swiss! 
Many  of  them,  however,  bowed  through  fear. 

But  there  was  one  brave  man  who  would 
not  bow.  His  name  was  William  Tell.  He 
glanced  carelessly  at  the  hat  and  then 
passed  on. 

The  tyrant  Gessler  was  furious.  He  or- 
dered that  Tell  should  be  brought  before 
him. 

Now  Tell  was  an  archer  of  great  skill. 
As  soon  as  he  saw  Tell,  Gessler  cried:  "Bold 
man,  I  will  punish  you  well.  You  must  shoot 
an  apple  from  the  head  of  your  son.  Aim 
well,  for  if  you  fail,  my  soldiers  shall  kill 
your  son  before  your  eyes." 

They  brought  Tell's  son,  a  little  fellow  of 
seven  years.     They  bound  him  against  a  tree 

coe's  third  r.  —  9 


130 

and  set  an  apple  on  his  flaxen  head.  The 
little  boy  smiled  at  his  father;  he  did  not 
tremble.     All    the    people    held  their  breath. 


Tell  raised  his  bow,  then  dropped  it. 
His  hand  shook  with  fear. 

"  Shoot,  father,"  cried  the  little  lad ;  "  you 
will  not  miss." 

Instantly    Tell     let      go     his     bowstring. 


131 

Straight  flew  the  arrow.  The  two  halves 
of  the  apple  fell  to  the  ground.  The  boy 
was  safe. 

As  Tell  stooped  to  hug  his  child,  a 
second  arrow  fell  from  his  coat.  Now  Gess- 
ler  had  told  him  that  he  could  have  but 
one  arrow. 

"  Man,"  cried  Gessler,  "  why  have  you 
this  arrow  %  " 

"  To  shoot  thee,  tyrant,  had  I  slain  my  son." 

—Fanny  E.  Coe. 

A  DONKEY  RACE1 
com  mo'tion        hob'bled  in  tel'li  gent 

[The  donkey  who  tells  the  story  has  had  many  adventures. 
His  last  mistress  was  a  little  sick  child  who  finally  died. 
Thereupon  her  parents  turned  the  donkey  adrift.] 

All  the  next  winter  I  had  no  one  to  take 
care  of  me.  I  had  to  live  in  the  forest,  where 
I  found  scarcely  enough  to  keep  me  from 
dying  of  hunger  and  thirst. 

When  the  spring  came,  I  went  one  day  to 

1  Copyright,  1901,  by  D.  C.  Heath  and  Company.  Used  by  per- 
mission. 


132 

a  village  on  the  edge  of  the  forest.  I  was 
surprised  to  find  quite  a  commotion  there. 

The  people  were  walking  up  and  down ; 
everybody  had  on  his  Sunday  clothes;  and, 
what  was  stranger  still,  all  the  donkeys  in  the 
neighborhood  seemed  to  be  there.  They  were 
sleek  and  fat,  their  heads  were  decorated  with 
flowers  and  leaves,  and  not  one  of  them  was 
in  harness  or  had  a  rider. 

I  trotted  up  to  see  if  I  could  find  out  what 
all  this  was  about.  Suddenly  one  of  the  boys 
who  was  standing  there  saw  me,  and  shouted, 
"  Oh,  I  say,  look  here !  here's  a  fine  donkey !  " 

"  My  word !  "  said  another,  "  how  well 
groomed  he  is !  and  how  fat  and  well  fed !  " 
and  they  roared  with  laughter. 

"  I  suppose  he's  come  to  run  in  the  donkey 
race,"  said  a  third,  "but  he  won't  win  the 
prize !     No  fear !  " 

I  was  very  much  annoyed  at  these  rude 
jokes  and  personal  remarks,  but  I  thought  I 
should  enjoy  taking  part  in  the  race,  so  I 
listened  again. 


133 

"  Where  are  they  going  to  run  ?  "  asked  an 
old  dame  who  had  just  come  up. 

"  In  the  meadow  by  the  mill,"  said  a  man 
named  Andrew. 

"  How  many  donkeys  are  there  ?  "  asked 
the  old  woman. 

"  Sixteen,  Mother  Evans,  and  the  one  that 
comes  in  first  will  win  a  silver  watch  and  a 
bag  of  money." 

"  Oh,  deary  me !  "  said  Mother  Evans,  "  I  do 
wish  /  had  a  donkey.  I  should  so  like  to  have 
a  watch.    I've  never  had  the  money  to  buy  one." 

I  liked  the  look  of  the  old  woman ;  I  was 
justly  proud  of  my  running ;  I  had  been  so 
long  in  the  forest  that  I  was  not  too  fat,  as 
some  of  the  prize  donkeys  were;  and  so  I 
would  take  part  in  the  race.  I  trotted  up  to 
the  others,  and  took  my  place  among  them, 
and  then,  to  attract  attention,  I  opened  my 
mouth  and  brayed  vigorously. 

"  Oh,  you  stop  that !  "  cried  out  a  man 
named  Bill.  "Hi!  you  there,  donkey,  you 
just  stop  that  music,  will  you?  and  get  out 


134 

of  there!  You  can't  run,  you  shabby  brute! 
and,  besides,  you  don't  belong  to  anybody." 

I  held  my  tongue,  but  I  didn't  budge  an 
inch.  Some  laughed,  and  others  were  get- 
ting angry,  when  old  Mother  Evans  said :  — 

"  Well,  he  can  have  me  for  his  mistress.  I 
take  him  into  my  service  from  this  minute. 
So  now  he  can  run  for  me." 

"  Well,"  said  Bill,  "  do  as  you  like,  mother. 
Only,  if  you  want  him  to  run,  you've  got  to  put 
a  quarter  into  the  bag  the  Squire  has  yonder." 

"  All  right,  my  dear,"  said  Mother  Evans. 
She  hobbled  off  to  where  the  Squire  was  sit- 
ting, and  paid  her  subscription  into  the  bag. 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  Squire ;  "  put  Mrs. 
Evans's  name  down,  Eichard." 

So  the  clerk  put  down  my  new  mistress's 
name.  We  were  all  drawn  up  in  a  line  in 
the  meadow.  The  Squire  said,  "  One,  two, 
three,  and  away ! "  The  boys  who  held  the 
donkeys  let  them  go,  and  away  we  galloped 
as  hard  as  we  could,  while  the  crowd  ran 
cheering  alongside. 


135 

The  sixteen  donkeys  had  not  gone  a  hun- 
dred yards  before  I  was  in  front  of  them  all, 
an  easy  first.  I  thought  I  would  beat  them 
all  now,  at  any  rate,  and  I  flew  along  as  if  I 
had  wings.  I  passed  proudly  before  the  win- 
ning  post,  not  only  first,  but  a  long  way  ahead 
of  all  the  rest,  amid  loud  cheers  from  those 
who  had  no  donkeys  in  the  race. 


The  Squire  sat  at  a  table  to  give  away  the 
prizes.     Mother  Evans,  who  was  almost  be- 


136 

side  herself  with  delight,  stroked  and  patted 
me,  and  led  me  up  to  the  table  with  her  to 
receive  the  first  prize. 

"  Here,  my  good  woman,"  said  the  Squire ; 
and  he  was  going  to  hand  the  watch  and  the 
bag  of  money  to  the  old  woman. 

"  Please,  your  worship,  it  isn't  fair !  "  cried 
Bill  and  Andrew.  "  That  donkey  doesn't' 
really  belong  to  Mother  Evans  any  more 
than  it  does  to  us!  Our  donkeys  really 
got  in  first,  not  counting  this  one.  The 
watch  and  money  ought  to  be  ours.  It  isn't 
fair!" 

"  Did  Mrs.  Evans  pay  her  quarter  into  the 
bag  ?  "  said  the  Squire. 

"  Well,  your  worship,  she  did  —  " 

"Did  any  of  you  object  to  her  doing  so  at 
the  time  ?  "  asked  the  Squire. 

"  Well,  no,  your  worship,  but  —  " 

"  Did  you  raise  any  objections  when  the 
donkeys  were  just  going  to  start  1 " 

"Well,  no,  sir,  but  —  " 

"Very  well,  then.     It's  all   perfectly  fair, 


137 

and  Mrs.  Evans  gets  the  watch  and  bag  of 
money." 

"Please,  sir,  it  isn't  fair,  it  isn't  fair! 
You  —  " 

When  I  heard  this,  I  at  once  put  my  head 
down  on  the  table,  and  taking  up  the  watch 
and  bag  in  my  teeth,  put  them  into  Mother 
Evans's  hands.  This  intelligent  action  on  my 
part  made  the  people  roar  with  laughter,  and 
won  for  me  thunders  of  applause. 

"  There !  "  said  the  Squire,  "  the  donkey 
has  decided  in  favor  of  Mother  Evans ;  and," 
he  added,  with  a  smile,  looking  at  Bill  and 
Andrew,  "  I  don't  <  think  he  is  the  biggest 
donkey  present ! " 

"  Bravo,  your  worship !  "  "  Good  for  you  !  " 
resounded  on  all  sides.  And  every  one  began 
to  laugh  at  Andrew  and  Bill,  who  went  away 
looking  cross  and  ill-tempered. 

And  was  I  pleased  %  No,  not  at  all.  My 
pride  was  hurt.  The  Squire  had  been  very 
rude  to  me.     It  was  too  much. 

I  declined  to  stay  in  a  place  where  I  was  so 


138 

insulted,  and  I  turned  tail  and  trotted  away 
from  such  an  ignorant  set  of  people. 

—  Madame  de  Segur. 


THE   TREE 

trem'bled  leaflets  quiv'ering 

The  Tree's  early  leaf  buds  were  bursting  their 

brown ; 
"  Shall  I  take  them  away  ?  "  said  the  Frost, 
sweeping  down. 

"  No,  leave  them  alone 
Till  the  blossoms  have  grown," 
Prayed  the  Tree,  while  he  trembled  from  root- 
let to  crown. 

The  Tree  bore  his  blossoms,  and  all  the  birds 

sung : 
"  Shall  I  take  them  away  ?  "  said  the  Wind, 
as  he  swung. 

"  No,  leave  them  alone 
Till  the  berries  have  grown," 
Said  the  Tree,  while  his  leaflets  quivering  hung. 


139 

The  Tree  bore  his  fruit  in  the  midsummer 

glow: 
Said   the   girl,    "  May   I   gather   thy   berries 
now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  all  thou  canst  see  : 
Take  them  ;  all  are  for  thee," 
Said  the  Tree,  while  he  bent  down  his  laden 
boughs  low. 

Bj  ORNSTJERNE    BjORNSON. 

LITTLE   SAMUEL 

min'is  tered  Eli  in  iq'ui  ty 

per  ceived'  eph'od  Is'ra  el 

proph'et  es  tab'lished  sac'ri  fice 

re  strained'  Be  er  she'ba  Sam'u  el 

But  Samuel  ministered  before  the  Lord, 
being  a  child,  girded  with   a  linen   ephod. 

Moreover,  his  mother  made  him  a  little 
coat,  and  brought  it  to  him  from  year  to 
year,  when  she  came  up  to  offer  the  yearly 
sacrifice. 

And  the  child  Samuel  ministered  unto  the 


140 


Lord  before  Eli.     And  the  word  of  the  Lord 

was  precious   in   those    days;    there  was  no 

open  vision. 

And   it  came  to  pass  at  that  time,  when 

Eli  was  laid  down  in  his  place,  and  his  eyes 

began  to  wax 
dim,  that  he 
could  not  see ; 

And  ere  the 
lamp  of  God 
went  out  in  the 
temple  of  the 
Lord,  where  the 
ark  of  God  was, 
and  Samuel  was 
laid  down  to 
sleep ; 

That  the  Lord 

called  Samuel :  and  he  answered,  Here  am  I. 
And  he  ran  unto  Eli,  and  said,  Here  am  I ; 

for  thou  calledst  me.     And  he  said,  I  called 

not ;  lie  down  again.     And  -he  went  and  lay 

down. 


A' 

k^Jp  ■   j  ^ 

141 

And  the  Lord  called  yet  again,  Samuel. 
And  Samuel  arose  and  went  to  Eli,  and  said, 
Here  am  I ;  for  thou  didst  call  me.  And  he 
answered,  I  called  not,  my  son  ;  lie  down  again. 

Now  Samuel  did  not  yet  know  the  Lord, 
neither  was  the  word  of  the  Lord  yet  re- 
vealed unto  him. 

And  the  Lord  called  Samuel  again  the 
third  time.  And  he  arose  and  went  to  Eli, 
and  said,  Here  am  I ;  for  thou  didst  call  me. 
And  Eli  perceived  that  the  Lord  called  the 
child. 

Therefore  Eli  said  unto  Samuel,  Go,  lie 
down:  and  it  shall  be,  if  he  call  thee,  that 
thou  shalt  say,  Speak,  Lord ;  for  thy  servant 
heareth.  So  Samuel  went  and  lay  down  in 
his  place. 

And  the  Lord  came,  and  stood,  and  called 
as  at  other  times,  Samuel,  Samuel.  Then  Sam- 
uel answered,  Speak ;  for  thy  servant  heareth. 

And  the  Lord  said  to  Samuel,  Behold,  I 
will  do  a  thing  in  Israel,  at  which  both  the 
ears  of  every  one  that  heareth  it  shall  tingle. 


142 

In  that  day  I  will  perform  against  Eli  all 
things  which  I  have  spoken  concerning  his 
house :  when  I  begin  I  will  also  make  an  end. 

For  I  have  told  him  that  I  will  judge  his 
house  .for  ever  for  the  iniquity  which  he 
knoweth;  because  his  sons  made  themselves 
vile,  and  he  restrained  them  not. 

And  Samuel  lay  until  the  morning  and 
opened  the  doors  of  the  house  of  the  Lord. 
And  Samuel  feared  to  show  Eli  the  vision. 

Then  Eli  called  Samuel,  and  said,  Samuel, 
my  son.     And  he  answered,  Here  am  I. 

And  he  said,  What  is  the  thing  that  the 
Lord  hath  said  unto  thee  ?  I  pray  thee  hide 
it  not  from  me :  God  do  so  to  thee,  and  more 
also,  if  thou  hide  anything  from  me  of  all 
things  that  he  said  unto  thee. 

And  Samuel  told  him  every  whit,  and  hid 
nothing  from  him.  And  he  said,  It  is  the 
Lord:   let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good. 

And  Samuel  grew,  and  the  Lord  was  with 
him,  and  did  let  none  of  his  words  fall  to  the 
ground. 


143 

And  all  Israel,  from  Dan  even  to  Beer- 
sheba,  knew  that  Samuel  was  established  to 
be  a  prophet  of  the  Lord.  —The  Bible. 

IN  FEBRUARY 

The  birds  have  been  singing  to-day, 
And  saying,  "  The  spring  is  near ! 

The  sun  is  as  warm  as  in  May, 

And  the  deep-blue  heavens  are  clear." 

The  little  bird  on  the  boughs 
Of  the  somber  snow-laden  pine 

Thinks :  "  Where  shall  I  build  me  a  house, 
And  how  shall  I  make  it  fine  ? 

"  For  the  season  of  snow  is  past ; 

The  mild  south  wind  is  on  high ; 
And  the  scent  of  the  spring  is  cast 

From  his  wing  as  he  hurries  by." 

The  little  birds  twitter  and  cheep 
To  their  loves  on  the  leafless  larch ; 

But  seven  foot  deep  the  snow-wreaths  sleep, 
And  the  year  hath  not  worn  to  March. 

—  John  Addlngton  Symonds. 


toiled 


144 
BRUCE  AND   THE   SPIDER 

fail'ure  dis  heart'ened 


There  was  once  a  king  of  Scotland  whose 
name  was  Robert  Bruce.  He  had  need  to  be 
both  brave  and  wise,  for  the  times  in  which 
he  lived  were  wild  and  rude.  The  king  of 
England  was  at  war  with  him,  and  had  led  a 
great  army  into  Scotland  to  drive  him  out  of 
the  land. 

Battle  after  battle  had  been  fought.  Six 
times  had  Bruce  led  his  brave  little  army 
against  his  foes;  and  six  times  had  his  men 
been  beaten  and  driven  into  flight.  At  last 
his  army  was  scattered,  and  he  was  forced  to 


145 

hide  himself  in  the  woods  and  in  lonely  places 
among  the  mountains. 

One  rainy  day,  Bruce  lay  on  the  ground 
under  a  rude  shed,  listening  to  the  patter  of 
the  raindrops  on  the  roof  above  him.  He  was 
tired  and  sick  at  heart,  and  ready  to  give  up 
all  hope.  It  seemed  to  him  th$t  there  was  no 
use  to  try  to  do  anything  more. 

As  he  lay  thinking,  he  saw  a  spider  over  his 
head,  making  ready  to  weave  her  web.  He 
watched  her  as  she  toiled  slowly  and  with 
great  care.  Six  times  she  tried  to  throw  her 
frail  thread  from  one  beam  to  another,  and  six 
times  it  fell  short. 

"  Poor  thing  !  "  said  Bruce.  "  You,  too, 
know  what  it  is  to  fail." 

But  the  spider  did  not  lose  hope  with  the 
sixth  failure.  With  still  more  care  she  made 
ready  to  try  the  seventh  time.  Bruce  almost 
forgot  his  own  troubles  as  he  watched  her 
swing  herself  out  upon  the  slender  line. 
Would  she  fail  again  ?  No !  The  thread  was 
carried  safely  to  the  beam  and  fastened  there. 

coe's  third  r.  —  10 


146 

"  I,  too,  will  try  a  seventh  time ! "  cried 
Bruce. 

He  arose  and  called  his  men  together.  He 
told  them  of  his  plans,  and  sent  them  out  with 
messages  of  cheer  to  his  disheartened  people. 
Soon  there  was  an  army  of  brave  Scotchmen 
around  him.  Another  battle  was  fought,  and 
the  king  of  England  was  glad  to  go  back  into 
his  own  country. 

I  have  heard  it  said  that,  after  that  day,  no 
one  by  the  name  of  Bruce  would  ever  hurt  a 
spider.  The  lesson  which  the  little  creature 
had  taught  the  king  was  never  forgotten. 

—  James  Baldwin. 

BRUCE   AND   THE   BLOODHOUND 

com'rades  col  lect'ed  Gal'lo  way 

Many  people  of  the  Galloway  were  un- 
friendly to  Bruce.  They  had  heard  that  he 
was  in  their  country  with  only  sixty  men. 
They  collected  two  hundred  men  and  brought 
with  them  two  or  three  bloodhounds. 


147 


These  hounds  could  chase  a  man.  by  the 
scent  of  his  footsteps,  as  foxhounds  chase  a 
fox.     Although   the    dog    does   not    see    the 


person  whose  trace  he  is  put  upon,  he  follows 
him  over  every  step  of  the  way. 

Good  King  Robert  knew  of  their  plans. 
So  he  placed  his  men  near  a  deep  river,  which 
was  crossed  by  but  one  ford.  The  ford  was 
so  narrow  that  only  two  men  could  cross  side 
by  side. 


148 

Bruce  left  his  men  to  sleep  a  half  mile  from 
the  river.  He  himself,  with  two  of  his  sol- 
diers, guarded  the  ford. 

They  heard  a  dog  barking  in  the  distance. 
"  It  may  be  only  a  shepherd's  dog,"  thought 
Bruce :  "  I  will  not  waken  mv  tired  men  for 
that." 

Time  passed,  and  the  cry  of  the  hound  drew 
nearer.  Soon  Bruce  began  to  hear  the  noise 
of  the  horses  and  the  ringing  of  armor.  He 
said  to  himself,  "  The  enemy  comes  !  " 

King  Robert  thought,  "  If  I  go  to  alarm 
my  friends,  these  Galloway  men  will  cross  the 
ford  easily.  That  would  be  a  pity.  This  is 
such  a  fine  place  for  a  fight !  " 

So  he  sent  the  two  men  to  awaken  their 
comrades,  while  he  stayed  alone  by  the  ford. 
Very  soon  he  saw  by  the  bright  light  of  the 
moon  that  the  other  shore  was  full  of  men 
and  horses.  How  the  dogs  barked  when 
they  saw  the  king  standing  by  the  bank ! 

The  leaders  plunged  into  the  river.  What 
was  one  man  against  so  many  ? 


149 

But  alas  for  them !  they  could  only  pass  the 
ford  one  by  one.  Bruce  killed  the  first  man 
with  his  long  spear.  His  wounded  horse  fell 
on  the  narrow  path,  and  so  blocked  this  end 
of  the  ford. 

Bruce  killed  five  or  six  more  of  his  enemies. 
Others  were  drowned  in  the  river.  The  rest 
were  frightened  and  drew  back. 

Then  they  cried,  "  See !  it  is  but  one  man. 
Our  honor  demands  his  death!"  They 
sprang  forward  again  with  fierce  shouts. 

Just  then  the  king's  soldiers  came  up  to  the 
ford.  Th6  Galloway  men  saw  them  and  gave 
up  the  fight. 

—  Adapted  from  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

ANOTHER   BLOODHOUND   STORY 

kins'man  Co'myn  hes'i  tate 

sep'a  ra  ted  fu'gi  tive  sin'gled 

King  Robert  once  owned  a  fine  blood- 
hound. The  dog  loved  him  dearly  and  would 
follow  him  everywhere.  After  a  time  the 
dog  came  to  belong  to  the  Earl  of  Lorn.     . 


150 

Now  the  earl  hated  King  Robert.  This 
was  because  the  king  had  once  killed  the 
eaiTs  kinsman,  the  Red  Comyn. 

John  of  Lorn  said  to  himself,  "  Now  that 
the  king  is  a  fugitive,  I  will  track  him  down 
with  his  own  hound.     Then  I  will  kill  him !  " 

The  hound  quickly  got  the  scent.  A  great 
company  of  Brace's  enemies  followed. 

Bruce  knew  they  were  coming,  and  he 
divided  his  forces  into  three  parts.  When 
the  hound  reached  the  place  where  the  men 
had  separated,  he  did  not  hesitate.  He  im- 
mediately followed  the  party  led  by  Bruce. 

Bruce  then  divided  his  party  again.  He 
sent  the  men  in  all  directions,  hoping  the 
hound  would  lose  the  scent.  He  had  only  one 
man  with  him,  his  foster  brother. 

But  the  hound  did  not  once  hesitate.  He 
singled  out  the  path  of  Bruce  and  followed 
hard  on  the  track. 

John  of  Lorn  now  sent  five  men  to  kill 
Bruce  and  his  foster  brother. 

When    thev    saw    the    five    men    coming, 


151 

Bruce  said  to  his  brother,  "Will  you  fight 
for  me  ?  "  "  To  the  last  drop  of  my  blood," 
he  replied. 

So  they  turned  against  the  five  so  bravely 
that  they  slew  them  all.  Then  they  hastened 
away. 

Presently  they  came  to  a  stream. 
"Huzza!"  cried  King  Robert,  "now  at  last 
we  may  baffle  that  wretched  hound !  " 

They  waded  out  into  the  stream  and 
walked  in  the  water  for  a  long  distance.  At 
last  they  landed  many  hundred  yards  down 
the  stream. 

When  the  men  of  Lorn  came  to  the  river, 
the  hound  was  puzzled  for  the  first  time.  He 
ran  up  and  down  the  shore,  trying  to  find  the 
track.     It  was  in  vain. 

Thanks  to  the  little  river,  the  wicked  plans 
of  Lorn  had  failed.  Bruce  was  saved  once 
more! 

—  Fanny  E.  Coe. 


152 

HOW   A   FARMER   TOOK   A   CASTLE 

de  fend'ed  port  culTis  Lith'gow 

Bin'nock  sta'tioned  gov'  ern  or 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  farmer  named 
Binnock.  He  loved  King  Robert  and  Scot- 
land. He  wished  he  could  do  something  to 
help  their  cause. 

Near  his  home  was  the  strong  castle  of  Lith- 
gow.  This  castle  was  held  by  the  English. 
Binnock  resolved  to  gain  it  for  his  king. 

The  castle  was  near  a  lake  and  was  de- 
fended by  gates  and  a  portcullis.  A  portcul- 
lis is  a  sort  of  door  made  of  iron  cross  pieces 
like  a  grate.  It  has  not  hinges  like  a  door, 
but  is  drawn  up  by  pulleys  and  let  down 
when  any  danger  approaches.  It  may  be 
dropped  in  a  moment,  and,  as  it  has  great 
iron  spikes  at  the  bottom,  it  crushes  all  that 
it  falls  upon. 

It  was  one  of  Binnock's  duties  to  supply  the 
castle  with  hay.  The  English  governor  had 
just  ordered  several  cart  loads. 


154 

Binnock  loaded  his  wagon  with  hay.  In 
the  wagon,  covered  by  the  hay,  he  placed  eight 
strong  men.     Each  was  well  armed. 

He  stationed  a  party  of  his  friends  near  the 
castle  gate.  When  he  gave  the  signal  they 
were  to  come  to  his  help.  The  chosen  signal 
was,  "  Call  all,  call  all!" 

In  the  morning  Binnock  set  out  to  deliver 
the  hay.  The  cart  was  driven  by  Binnock's 
servant,  a  strong,  brave  man  who  carried  a 
sharp  hatchet.  The  farmer  himself  walked 
beside  the  cart. 

The  castle  watchman  knew  that  the  hay 
was  expected.  Seeing  only  two  men,  he 
opened  the  gate  and  raised  the  portcullis. 

When  the  cart  came  under  the  gateway, 
the  driver  cut  the  horses  loose  The  horses 
went  ahead,  leaving  the  cart  under  the  gate. 
Just  then  Binnock  shouted,  "  Call  all,  call 
all !  "  The  armed  men  sprang  from  the  cart 
and  those  near  the  gate  rushed  against  the 
English  guard. 

The  Englishmen  tried  to  shut  the  gates,  but 


155 

the  cart  was  in  the  way.  They  dropped  the 
portcullis,  but  it  caught  in  the  cart  and  did  not 
reach  the  ground. 

So  the  Scottish  men  entered  the  fortress 
and  killed  the  English  or  took  them  prisoners. 

In  this  way  Farmer  Binnock  won  Lithgow 
Castle  for  his  king. 

—  Adapted  from  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

THE  BLACK  DOUGLAS 
nick'named  un  a  wares'  Doug'las 

In  Scotland,  in  the  time  of  King  Robert 
Bruce,  there  lived  a  brave  man  whose  name  was 
Douglas.  His  hair  and  beard  were  black  and 
long,  and  his  face  was  tanned  and  dark ;  and 
for  this  reason  people  nicknamed  him  the 
Black  Douglas.  He  was  a  good  friend  of  the 
king,  and  one  of  his  strongest  helpers. 

In  the  war  with  the  English,  who  were  try- 
ing to  drive  Bruce  from  Scotland,  the  Black 
Douglas  did  many  brave  deeds ;  and  the 
English  people  became  very  much  afraid  of 
him.     By  and  by  the  fear  of  him  spread  all 


156 

through  the  land.  Nothing  could  frighten  an 
English  lad  more  than  to  tell  him  that  the 
Black  Douglas  was  not  far  away.  Women 
told  their  children,  when  they  were  naughty, 
that  the  Black  Douglas  would  get  them  ;  and 
this  made  them  very  quiet  and  good. 

There  was  a  large  castle  in  Scotland  which 
the  English  had  taken  early  in  the  war.  The 
Scottish  soldiers  wanted  very  much  to  take  it 
again,  and  the  Black  Douglas  and  his  men 
went  one  day  to  see  what  they  could  do.  It 
happened  to  be  a  holiday,  and  most  of  the 
English  soldiers  in  the  castle  were  eating,  and 
drinking,  and  having  a  merry  time.  But  they 
had  left  watchmen  on  the  wall  to  see  that  the 
Scottish  soldiers  did  not  come  upon  them  una- 
wares ;  and  so  they  felt  quite  safe. 

In  the  evening,  when  it  was  growing  dark, 
the  wife  of  one  of  the  soldiers  went  up  on 
the  wall  with  her  child  in  her  arms.  As  she 
looked  over  into  the  fields  below  the  castle, 
she  saw  some  dark  objects  moving  toward  the 
foot  of  the  wall.     In  the  dusk  she  could  not 


157 

make  out  what  they  were,  and  so  she  pointed 
them  out  to  one  of  the  watchmen. 

"  Pooh,  pooh ! "  said  the  watchman. 
"  Those  are  nothing  to  frighten  us.  They  are 
the  farmer's  cattle,  trying  to  find  their  way 
home.  The  farmer  himself  is  enjoying  the 
holiday,  and  has  forgotten  to  bring  them  in. 
If  the  Douglas  should  happen  this  way 
before  morning,  he  will  be  sorry  for  his  care- 
lessness." 

But  the  dark  objects  were  not  cattle.  They 
were  the  Black  Douglas  and  his  men,  creeping 
on  hands  and  feet  toward  the  foot  of  the  castle 
wall.  Some  of  them  were  dragging  ladders 
behind  them  through  the  grass.  They  would 
soon  be  climbing  to  the  top  of  the  wall.  None 
of  the  English  soldiers  dreamed  that  they 
were  within  many  miles  of  the  place. 

The  woman  watched  them  until  the  last  one 
had  passed  around  a  corner  out  of  sight.  She 
was  not  afraid,  for  in  the  darkening  twilight 
they  looked  indeed  like  cattle.  After  a  while 
she  began  to  sing  to  her  child :  — 


<158) 


Don't  be  so  sure  about  that ! 


159 

"  Hush  ye,  hush  ye,  little  pet  ye, 
Hush  ye,  hush  ye,  do  not  fret  ye, 
The  Black  Douglas  shall  not  get  ye." 

All  at  once  a  gruff  voice  was  heard  behind 
her,  saying,  "  Don't  be  so  sure  about  that ! " 

She  looked  around,  and  there  stood  Black 
Douglas  himself.  At  the  same  time  a  Scot- 
tish soldier  climbed  up  a  ladder  and  leaped 
upon  the  wall ;  and  then  there  came  another 
and  another  and  another,  until  the  wall 
was  covered  with  them.  Soon  there  was  hot 
fighting  in  every  part  of  the  castle.  But  the 
English  were  so  taken  by  surprise  that  they 
could  not  do  much.  Many  of  them  were  killed, 
and  in  a  little  while  the  Black  Douglas  and 
his  men  were  the  masters  of  the  castle  which 
by  right  belonged  to  them. 

As  for  the  woman  and  her  child,  the  Black 
Douglas  would  not  suffer  any  one  to  harm  them. 
After  a  while  they  went  back  to  England ;  and 
whether  the  mother  made  up  any  more  songs 
about  the  Black  Douglas,  I  cannot  tell. 

—  James  Baldwin. 


160 
THE   HEART    OF  BRUCE 


liege 

out  num'bered 

stead 

Pal'es  tine 

stir'rups 

Spaniard 

Sar'a  cens 

Mel' rose 

prec'ious 

After  many  years  King  Robert  lay  dying. 
He  said  to  those  about  him,  "  I  would  speak 
with  Douglas." 

The  good  Lord  Douglas  came  to  the  bed- 
side. "  Douglas,  I  am  dying,"  said  the  king. 
And  Douglas  bowed  his  head,  for  he  knew 
that  the  king  spoke  the  truth. 

"  One  evil  deed  I  remember  now  with  sor- 
row. The  death  of  the  Red  Comyn  rests 
heavy  on  my  soul.  I  had  always  hoped  that 
sometime  I  could  fight  for  our  Lord  in  Pales- 
tine, and  so  win  my  pardon.  But  I  shall 
never  see  the  Holy  Land. 

"  When  I  am  gone,  take  my  heart  witli 
thee  and  go  in  my  stead.  That  will  show 
all  men  what  I  would  have  done.  Wilt  thou 
go,  old  friend  %  " 

And  Douglas  said,  "  I  promise,  my  King." 


161 

Then  King  Robert  was  content,  for  he  knew 
that  Douglas  was  as  true  as  steel. 

After  Brace's  death,  Lord  Douglas  made 
ready  for  his  journey  to  the  Holy  Land.  The 
heart  of  Bruce  was  placed  in  a  silver  case 
which  Douglas  wore  about  his  neck  on  a 
silver  chain.  Many  brave  knights  joined 
Douglas. 

They  set  sail  and  left  far  behind  their 
dear  country  of  Scotland.  Halfway  on  their 
journey  they  stopped  in  Spain.  The  king  of 
Spain  welcomed  them  gladly. 

"Why  do  you  go  so  far  as  the  Holy 
Land?  "  he  said.    "  Here  are  many  Saracens." 

It  was  the  Saracens  whom  Bruce  had 
wished  to  fight  in  the  Holy  Land. 

Douglas  said  to  his  men,  "  The  enemies 
of  Our  Lord  and  of  King  Robert  are  here 
in  Spain.  Shall  we  not  stay  and  help  this 
good  king  in  the  battle  to-morrow  ?  "  His 
men  agreed. 

On  the  morrow  a  great  battle  was  fought 
between  the   Saracens  on   one   side,  and  the 

coe's  third  r.  —  11 


162 


Spaniards  and  the  Scottish  knights  on  the 
other.  The  Saracens  at  last  gave  way,  and 
the  Scottish  knights  galloped  after  them. 
They  left  the  Spaniards  far  behind. 

Soon  Douglas  and  his  men  found  them- 
selves in  great  danger.  The  Saracens  had 
returned,  and  now  hemmed  them  in  on  all 
sides.  The  Scotsmen  fought  bravely,  but 
the  Saracens  greatly  outnumbered  them. 
Douglas    understood   their   peril.    He   rose 

in    his    stirrups, 
took    the    hearty 
of    Bruce,     and 
hurled     it      into 
the  ranks  of  the 


enemy,      crying, 
"Pass  first,    my 

Liege,  as  thou  were  wont,  and  Douglas  will 

follow  thee  or  die." 

Afterwards  they  found  him  dead  upon  the 

battlefield.      Beneath    him  lay  the   heart  of 

Bruce.     He   had    fought   his  way  to   it   and 

protected  it  even  in  death. 


163 

They  carried  back  to  Scotland  the  body 
of  the  Douglas  and  the  precious  heart  of 
Bruce,  which  was  buried  in  Melrose  Abbey. 

—  Fanny  E.  Coe. 

WISHING 

Ring-ting !  I  wish  I  were  a  primrose, 
A    bright    yellow    primrose,    blowing   in    the 
spring ! 

The  stooping  boughs  above  me, 

The  wandering  bee  to  love  me, 
The  fern  and  moss  to  creep  across, 

And  the  elm  tree  for  our  king !  t 

Nay  —  stay!  I  wish  I  were  an  elm  tree, 
A  great,  lofty  elm  tree,  with  green  leaves  gay ! 
The  winds  would  set  them  dancing, 
The  sun  and  moonshine  glance  in, 
The  birds  would  house  among  the  boughs, 
And  sweetly  sing. 

0 — no  !  I  wish  I  were  a  robin, 

A  robin  or  a  little  wren,  everywhere  to  go ; 


164 

Through  forest,  field,  or  garden, 
And  ask  no  leave  or  pardon, 
Till  winter  comes  with  icy  thumbs 
To  ruffle  up  our  wing ! 

Well  —  tell !     Where  should  I  fly  to, 
Where  go  to  sleep  in  the  dark  wood  or  dell  ? 

Before  a  day  was  over, 

Home  comes  the  rover, 
For  mother's  kiss  —  sweeter  this 

Than  any  other  thing. 

—  William  Allingham. 

THE   FISHERMAN   AND   HIS   WIFE 

im  prove'ment      mag  nifi  cent       veg'e  ta  bles 
en  chant' ed  scep'ter  fu'ri  ous  ly 

PART   I 

Once  there  was  a  fisherman  and  his  wife 
who  lived  together  in  a  hovel  by  the  sea- 
shore. The  fisherman  went  out  every  day  to 
catch  fish. 

One  day  he  drew  up  a  great  flounder. 


165 


The  flounder  said  to  him,  "  Fisherman,  listen 
to  me.  Let  me  go.  I  am  not  a  real  fish, 
but  an  enchanted 
prince.  So  put 
me  back  into  the 
water  and  let  me 
swim  away." 

"  Very  well," 
said  the  fisher- 
man. He  put 
him  back  into  the 
clear  water  and 
got  up  and  went 
home  to  his  wife. 

"  Well,  husband,"  said  the  wife,  "  have  you 
caught  nothing  to-day  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  man,  —  "  that  is,  I  did  catch 
a  flounder,  but  as  he  said  he  was  an  enchanted 
prince,  I  let  him  go  again." 

"  Then  did  you  wish  for  nothing  ?  "  said 
the  wife. 

"No,"  said  the  man;  "what  should  I  wish 
for?" 


166 

"  Oh  dear!  "  said  the  wife,  "  it  is  so  dread- 
ful always  to  live  in  this  wretched  hovel. 
You  might  have  wished  for  a  little  cottage. 
Go  again  and  call  him.  I  daresay  he  will 
give  it  to  us." 

When  he  went  back,  the  sea  was  green  and 
yellow,  and  not  nearly  so  clear.  He  stood 
and  said :  — 

"  Flounder,  flounder,  in  the  sea, 
Quickly,  quickly  come  to  me, 
For  my  wife,  dame  Isabel, 
Wishes  what  I  dare  not  tell." 

Then  the  flounder  came  swimming  up. 

"  Well,  what  does  she  wish  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  the  fisherman,  "  my  wife  says  I 
ought  to  have  wished  for  something.  She 
does  not  wish  to  live  any  longer  in  the  hovel. 
She  would  rather  have  a  cottage." 

"  Home  with  you ! "  said  the  flounder ; 
"  she  has  it  already." 

So  the  man  went  home  and  found,  instead 
of  the  hovel,  a  little  cottage.  His  wife  took 
him  by  the  hand  and  said,  "  Come  in  and  see 
if  this  is  not  a  great  improvement." 


167 

So  they  went  in,  and  there  was  a  beautiful 
little  bedroom,  a  kitchen  and  larder,  with  iron 
and  brass  ware  of  the  very  best.  At  the  back 
was  a  little  yard  with  fowls  and  ducks,  and 
a  little  garden  full  of  green  vegetables  and 
fruit. 

"  Look,"  said  the  wife  ;  "  is  not  that  nice  1  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man,  "  if  this  can  only 
last,  we  shall  be  very  well  contented." 

All  went  well  for  a  fortnight.  Then  the 
wife  said,  "  Look  here,  husband  ;  the  cottage 
is  really  too  small.  I  think  the  flounder 
should  get  us  a  larger  house.  I  should  like 
to  live  in  a  large  stone  castle." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  wife,  the  cottage  is  good 
enough.     Why  should  we  have  a  castle?" 

"  We  want  one,"  said  the  wife.  "  Go  along 
with  you.     The  flounder  can  give  us  one." 

The  man  felt  very  unwilling ;  nevertheless 
he  went. 

When  he  came  to  the  seaside,  the  water 
was  purple,  and  dark  blue,  and  gray,  and  thick. 
He  stood  and  said  :  — 


168 

"  Flounder,  flounder,  in  the  sea, 
Quickly,  quickly  come  to  me, 
For  my  wife,  dame  Isabel, 
Wishes  what  I  dare  not  tell." 

"  Well,  what  does  she  wish  ? "  asked  the 
flounder. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  man,  "  she  wants  to  live  in 
a  large  stone  castle." 

"  Home  with  you !  She  is  already  stand- 
ing before  the  door." 

When  the  man  reached  home,  in  place  of 
the  cottage  there  stood  a  great  castle  of  stone. 
His  wife  took  him  by  the  hand  and  said, 
"  Let  us  enter." 

In  the  castle  was  a  broad  hall  with  a  marble 
pavement,  and  there  were  a  great  many 
servants,  who  led  them  through  magnificent 
rooms.  At  the  back  of  the  castle  was  a  fine 
large  garden  with  the  most  beautiful  flowers 
and  fruit  trees.  There  was  also  a  park  a  mile 
long,  with  deer  and  oxen  and  sheep. 

"  There ! "  said  the  wife ;  "  is  not  this 
beautiful  I  " 


169 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  man ;  "  if  it  will  only 
last,  we  can  live  in  this  fine  castle  and  be  very 
well  contented." 

The  next  morning  the  wife  looked  out  and 
saw  the  beautiful  country  lying  all  around. 

"  Husband,  just  look  out  of  this  window. 
Just  think  if  we  could  only  be  king  over  all 
this  country.  Go  to  your  fish  and  tell  him  we 
should  like  to  be  king." 

"  Now,  wife,  what  should  we  be  king  for? 
I  don't  want  to  be  king." 

"  Well,"  said  the  wife,  "  if  you  don't  want  to 
be  king,  I  will  be  king.  So  go  and  do  as  I  say, 
all  the  same." 

The  man  went,  feeling  very  much  put  out 
with  his  wife's  folly. 

PART   II 

When  the  fisherman  came  to  the  sea,  the 
water  was  dark  gray,  and  it  was  rushing  in- 
land fast  and  furiously.    He  stood  and  said  :  — 

44  Flounder,  flounder,  in  the  sea, 
Quickly,  quickly  come  to  me, 
For  my  wife,  dame  Isabel, 
Wishes  what  I  dare  not  tell." 


170 

"  Well,  what  does  she  wish  %  "  said  the  fish. 

"  Oh  dear,  she  wishes  to  be  king." 

"  Home  with  you  ;   she  is  king  already." 

When  the  man  came  to  the  castle  he  saw 
that  it  was  now  a  palace.  A  herald  stood  be- 
fore the  door,  and  a  number  of  soldiers  with 
trumpets. 

Inside,  everything  was  of  marble  and  gold. 
He  entered  the  throne  room  and  there  sat  his 
wife  upon  a  throne  of  gold.  She  wore  a  golden 
crown  and  held  a  scepter  of  pure  gold  and 
jewels.  • 

The  man  went  up  to  her  and  said,  "  Well, 
wife,  so  now  you  are  king !  " 

"  Yes,  now  I  am  king,  but  I  am  tired  of  this 
already.  Go  to  your  fish  and  tell  him  that 
I  must  be  emperor." 

"Oh  dear!"  said  the  man,  "I  cannot  do 
it  —  I  cannot  ask  him  such  a  thing." 

"  Now,  see  here,"  said  the  wife  ;"Iam  king ; 
you  are  only  my  husband,  so  you  will  go  at 
once !     I  will  and  must  be  emperor !  " 

The  fisherman  was  obliged  to  go. 


171 


When  he  came  to  the  sea,  the  water  was 
quite  black  and  thick,  and  the  foam  flew  and 
the  wind  blew.  The  man  was  terrified,  but  he 
stood  and  said :  — 

"  Flounder,  flounder,  in  the  sea, 
Quickly,  quickly  come  to  me, 
For  my  wife,  dame  Isabel, 
Wishes  what  I  dare  not  tell." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  now  ?  "  said  the  fish. 

"  Oh  dear,  my  wife  wishes  to  be  emperor." 

"  Home  with 
you;  she  is  em- 
peror alreauy." 

When  the  man 
reached  home,  he 
found  the  palace 
adorned  with 
golden  gates. 
The  soldiers  were 
being  marshaled 
before  the  door. 
Within,  barons  and  earls  and  dukes  were 
waiting  about  like  servants. 


172 

His  wife  was  sitting  on  a  throne  made  of 
one  entire  piece  of  gold.  She  wore  a  golden 
crown  set  with  diamonds  and  rubies.  In  one 
hand  she  held  the  scepter  and  in  the  other 
the  globe. 

"  Well,  wife,  so  now  you  are  emperor." 

"  Yes ;  now  I  am  emperor." 

"  Well,  wife,  there  is  nothing  left  to  be,  now 
you  are  emperor." 

"  What  are  you  talking  about,  husband  %  " 
said  she.  "  I  am  emperor,  and  next  I  will  be 
pope.     Go  and  tell  the  £sh  so." 

"Now,  wife,"  said  the  man,  "now  can  I 
ask  him  such  a  thing  %     It  is  too  bad  !  " 

"  Rubbish ! "  said  the  wife.  "  Go  along 
and  ask  him.  I  am  emperor,  and  you  are  only 
my  husband,  so  you  must." 

He  went,  feeling  much  frightened.  On  the 
way  he  shivered  and  shook,  and  his  knees 
trembled. 

A  great  wind  arose  ;  clouds  flew  by ;  the  sea 
rose  mountain  high ;  the  ships  were  tossed 
about ;  and  the  sky  was  dark  and  red,  as  in  a 


173 

great    tempest.     The    fisherman  stood  trem- 
bling as  he  said  :  — 

"  Flounder,  flounder,  in  the  sea, 
Quickly,  quickly  come  to  me, 
For  my  wife,  dame  Isabel, 
Wishes  what  I  dare  not  tell." 

"  Well,  what  now  ?  "  said  the  fish. 

"  Oh  dear!  she  wishes  to  be  pope." 

"  Home  with  you!     She  is  pope  already." 

When  he  reached  home,  he  found  himself 
before  a  great  church,  with  palaces'  all  round. 
He  had  to  make  his  way  through  a  crowd  of 
people. 

When  he  got  inside,  he  found  the  place 
lighted  up  with  thousands  and  thousands  of 
lights.  His  wife  was  clothed  in  a  golden  gar- 
ment and  sat  upon  a  very  high  throne.  On 
both  sides  of  her  stood  two  rows  of  lights  of 
all  sizes,  and  all  the  emperors  and  kings  were 
kneeling  before  her  and  kissing  her  foot. 

"Well,  wife,  so  you  are  pope." 

"  Yes,  now  I  am  pope." 

"  Well,  now,  wife,  what  is  there  left  to  be, 


174 


now   you    are   pope?     You   can   be   nothing 


more." 


"  We  shall  see  about  that,"  said  the  wife. 

That  night  the  new  pope  slept  little.  She 
tossed  and  turned  from  side  to  side,  thinking 
all  the  while  what  she  could  be  next.  Nothing 
occurred  to  her. 

When  she  saw  the  red  dawn  she  went  to 
the  window  to  see  the  sun  rise.  As  it  came 
up,  she  said,  "  Ah,  I  have  it !  What  if  I 
should  make  the  sun  and  moon  to  rise !  Hus- 
band, go  to  your  fish  and  tell  him  I  want 
power  over  the  sun  and  moon." 

"  Oh,  —  wife,  what  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  Husband,"  said  she,  "  if  I  cannot  make  the 
sun  and  moon  rise  when  I  want  them,  I  shall 
never  have  another  quiet  hour.  Go  to  the 
fish  and  tell  him  so." 

"  0  wife,"  said  the  man,  and  fell  on  his 
knees  to  her,  "  the  fish  can  really  not  do  that 
for  you.  I  grant  he  could  make  you  emperor 
and  pope0  Be  contented  with  that,  I  beg  of 
you." 


175 

But  she  became  wild  with  impatience,  and 
screamed  out,  "  I  can  wait  no  longer.  Go  at 
once !  " 

Off  he  went  as  well  as  he  could  for  fright. 
A  dreadful  storm  arose,  so  that  he  could 
hardly  keep  his  feet.  Houses  and  trees  were 
blown  down  ;  mountains  trembled ;  and  rocks 
fell  into  the  sea. 

He  cried  out,  without  being  able  to  hear 
his  own  words  :  — 

"  Flounder,  flounder,  in  the  sea, 
Quickly,  quickly  come  to  me, 
For  my  wife,  dame  Isabel, 
Wishes  what  I  dare  not  tell." 

"  Well,  what  now  ?  "  asked  the  flounder. 

"  Oh  dear !  She  wishes  to  order  about  the 
sun  and  moon." 

"  Home  with  you !  "  said  the  flounder.  "  You 
will  find  her  in  the  old  hovel." 

And  there  they  live  to  this  very  day. 

—  Grimm. 


trig 


176 

DISCONTENT 
pas'sion 


tire 'some 


Down  in  a  field,  one  day  in  June, 
The  flowers  all  bloomed  together, 

Save  one,  who  tried  to  hide  herself, 
And  drooped  that  pleasant  weather. 


A  robin,  who  had  flown  too  high, 

And  felt  a  little  lazy, 
Was  resting  near  a  buttercup 

Who  wished  she  were  a  daisy. 

For  daisies  grow  so  trig  and  tall ! 

She  always  had  a  passion 
For  wearing  frills  around  her  neck, 

In  just  the  daisies'  fashion. 


177 

And  buttercups  must  always  be 
The  same  old  tiresome  color ; 

While  daisies  dress  in  gold  and  white, 
Although  their  gold  is  duller. 

"  Dear  Robin,"  said  the  sad  young  flower, 
"  Perhaps  you'd  not  mind  trying 

To  find  a  nice  white  frill  for  me, 
Some  day  when  you  are  flying  %  " 

"  You  silly  thing !  "  the  robin  said, 
"  I  think  you  must  be  crazy : 

Td  rather  be  my  honest  self, 
Than  any  made-up  daisy. 

"  You're  nicer  in  your  own  bright  gown, 

The  little  children  love  you ; 
Be  the  best  buttercup  you  can, 

And  think  no  flower  above  you. 

"  Though  swallows  leave  me  out  of  sight, 

We'd  better  keep  our  places  ; 
Perhaps  the  world  would  all  go  wrong 

With  one  too  many  daisies. 

coe's  third  k. — 12 


178 

"Look  bravely  up  into  the  sky, 
And  be  content  with  knowing 

That  God  wished  for  a  buttercup 
Just  here,  where  you  are  growing. " 

—  Sarah  Orne  Jewett. 


THE   THREE   WISHES 

dis  ap  peared'  pro  long'  per  ceived' 

perplexed'  ne'cessary         in'stantly 

qual'i  ty  thor'ough  ly        promised 

There  was  once  a  man,  not  very  rich,  who 
had  a  pretty  woman  for  his  wife.  One  win- 
ter's evening,  as  he  sat  by  the  fire,  they 
talked  of  the  happiness  of  their  neighbors, 
who  were  richer  than  they. 

Said  the  wife,  "  If  it  were  in  my  power  to 
have  what  I  wish,  I  should  be  happier  than 
all  of  them." 

"  So  should  I,  too,"  said  the  husband ;  "  I 
wish  we  had  fairies  now,  and  that  one  of  them 
would  grant  me  what  I  might  ask." 

At  that  instant  they  saw  a  very  beautiful 


179 


lady  in  their  room,  who  said,  "  I  am  a  fairy ; 
and  I  promise  to  grant  you  the  three  first 
wishes  you  shall  wish.  But,  take  care ; 
after   having  wished  for  three  things,  I  will 


not  grant  one  wish  further."  The  fairy  dis- 
appeared ;  and  the  man  and  his  wife  were 
much  perplexed. 

"  For  my  own  part,"  said  the  wife,  "  if  it  is 
left  to  my  choice,  I  know  very  well  what  I 
shall  wish  for.  I  do  not  wish  yet,  but  I 
think  nothing  is  so  good  as  to  be  handsome, 
rich,  and  to  be  of  good  quality." 


180 

But  the  husband  answered:  "  With  all  these 
things  one  might  be  sick,  fretful,  and  one  may 
die  young.  It  would  be  much  wiser  to  wish' 
for  health,  cheerfulness,  and  a  long  life." 

"  But  of  what  use  is  a  long  life  with 
poverty  % "  said  the  wife.  "  It  would  only 
prolong  our  misery.  In  truth,  the  fairy 
should  have  promised  us  a  dozen  gifts,  for 
there  are  at  least  a  dozen  things  which  I 
want." 

"  That's  true,"  said  the  husband  ;  "  but  let 
us  take  time.  Let  us  consider,  from  this  time 
till  morning,  the  three  things  which  are  most 
necessary  for  us,  and  then  wish." 

"I'll  think  all  night,"  said  the  wife; 
"  meanwhile,  let  us  warm  ourselves,  for  it  is 
very  cold." 

At  the  same  time  the  wife  took  the  tongs 
to  mend  the  fire.  Seeing  there  were  a  great 
many  coals  thoroughly  lighted,  she  said, 
without  thinking,  "  Here's  a  nice  fire ;  I  wish 
we  had  a  yard  of  black  pudding  for  our 
supper.     We  could  dress  it  easily."     She  had 


181 

hardly  said  these  words,  when  down  the 
chimney  came  tumbling  a  yard  of  black 
pudding  for  supper. 

"  Oh,  you  silly  woman,"  said  her  husband. 
"  There's  a  fine  wish  indeed  !  Now  we  have 
only  two  left ;  for  my  part,  I  am  so  vexed, 
that  I  wish  the  black  pudding  fast  to  the  tip 
of  your  nose." 

The  man  soon  perceived  that  he  was 
sillier  than  his  wife ;  for  at  that  second  wish 
up  starts  the  black  pudding,  and  sticks  so  fast 
to  the  tip  of  his  poor  wife's  nose,  there  was  no 
means  to  take  it  off. 

"  Wretch  that  I  am!"  cried  she.  "  You 
are  a  wicked  man  for  wishing  the  pudding 
fast  to  my  nose." 

"  My  dear,"  answered  the  husband,  "  I  did 
not  think  of  it ;  but  what  shall  we  do  ?  I  am 
about  wishing  for  vast  riches,  and  I  will  have 
a  golden  case  made  to  hide  the  pudding." 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  the  wife,  "  for  I 
should  kill  myself,  were  I  to  live  with  this 
pudding  dangling  at  my  nose.     We  have  still 


182 

a  wish  to  make.  Leave  it  to  me,  or  I  shall 
instantly  throw  myself  out  of  the  window." 
And  with  this  she  ran  and  opened  the 
window. 

Her  husband,  who  loved  his  wife,  called 
out,  "  Hold,  my  dear  wife ;  I  give  you  leave  to 
wish  for  what  you  will." 

"Well,"  said  the  wife,  "my  wish  is,  that 
this  pudding  may  fall  off." 

At  that  instant  the  pudding  dropped  off. 

The  wife,  who  did  not  want  for  wit,  said  to 
her  husband,  "The  fairy  was  in  the  right. 
Let  us  wish  for  nothing,  and  take  things  as  it 
shall  please  God  to  send  them.  In  the  mean- 
time, let  us  sup  upon  our  pudding,  since 
that  is  all  that  remains  to  us  of  our  three 
wishes." 

The  husband  wisely  thought  that  his  wife 
was  right.  They  supped  merrily,  and  never 
gave  themselves  any  further  trouble  about 
the  things  which  they  had  meant  to  wish 
for. 

—  C.  Perrault. 


183 

THE   WRECK   AND   THE   LIFEBOAT 
pas'sen  gers  in  creased'  ear'nest  ly 

The  storm  had  increased  in  fury  until  the 
seventh  day,  when  we  lost  all  hope.  The 
crew  were  worn  out  by  labor  and  watching. 
Several  leaks  appeared,  the  waves  dashed  in, 
and  the  ship  began  to  fill  with  water. 

My  heart  sank  as  I  looked  at  my  wife  and 
our  four  young  sons.  We  knelt  down  and 
prayed  earnestly  to  God.  Afterwards  we  felt 
comforted. 

Above  the  roar  of  the  waves,  I  heard  a  cry 
of  "  Land,  land ! "  At  the  same  moment  the 
ship  struck  against  a  rock  with  such  force  as 
to  throw  every  one  down. 

"  Lower  the  boats  !  We  are  lost !  "  shouted 
the  captain. 

I  hurried  on  deck  only  to  see  the  last  boat 
leaving  the  ship.  I  called  at  the  top  of  my 
voice,  but  no  one  heard. 

I  saw,  however,  that  we  had  still  a  chance 
for  our  lives.     Part  of  the    ship  was  raised 


184 

above  the  breakers,  and,  in  the  distance,  I 
could  see  a  line  of  rocky  coast. 

"  Courage,"  I  said.  "  If  the  sea  calms  to- 
morrow, we  may  be  able  to  reach  the  shore." 

The  children  then  ate  a  good  supper  and 
soon  fell  fast  asleep. 

In  the  morning  I  called  the  boys  and  we 
all  met  on  deck. 

"  Oh,  papa !  "  cried  Jack,  "  where  are  the 
sailors  and  the  other  passengers  %  ' 

"  My  children,"  said  I,  "  our  friends  have 
left  us,  but  God  will  help  us.  Let  us  think 
what  is  best  to  be  done." 

"  Could  we  not  make  a  raft,  papa  %  "  said 
Ernest. 

"  That  would  be  a  good  plan,"  I  replied, 
"  if  we  had  anything  to  make  it  with." 

"  We  might  swim  to  the  shore,"  said  Fritz, 
the  eldest ;  "  the  sea  is  quite  calm." 

"  That  is  all  very  well  for  you,  who  can 
swim,"  said  Ernest.     "  But  we  can't." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  suppose  we  look  through 
the  ship  to  see  what  we  can  find." 


185 

Away  we  all  went  in  different  directions. 
Jack  took  his  way  toward  the  captain's 
cabin.  The  moment  he  opened  the  door  two 
large  dogs  jumped  out.  How  glad  they  were 
to  be  free!  They  bounded  so  with  delight 
that  they  knocked  little  Jack  head  over  heels. 

But  Jack  was  on  his  feet  again  in  an  in- 
stant. He  seized  one  of  the  dogs  by  the  ears, 
jumped  on  his  back,  and  rode  up  to  me.  How 
I  laughed  at  the  sight ! 

We  gathered  in  the  cabin  to  tell  what  we 
had  found.  Fritz  had  found  two  guns,  some 
shot,  powder,  and  bullets.  Ernest  showed  a 
cap  full  of  nails,  an  ax,  a  saw,  and  a  hammer. 
Little  Franz,  the  youngest,  carried  a  box  of 
sharp  fishing  hooks. 

"  You  have  all  done  well,"  said  I ;  "  but  I 
am  afraid  Jack's  dogs  will  eat  more  than  any 
of  us.     Besides,  they  will  be  of  little  use." 

"  Oh,  papa,"  cried  Jack,  "  they  will  help  us 
to  hunt." 

"  That  is,  in  case  we  ever  get  ashore.  But 
how  can  that  be  done  ?  " 


186 

"  Could  we  not  sail  in  tubs  1 "  said  Jack. 
"  I  have  often  sailed  in  a  tub  on  the  pond  at 
home." 

"A  good  thought!"  cried  I.  "Let  us 
see  if  we  can  find  any  tubs." 

We  soon  found  four  large  iron-bound  casks. 
These  I  sawed  through  the  middle,  making 
two  tubs  out  of  each  cask.  These  I  set  in  a 
row  near  the  edge  of  the  water. 

Next  we  got  a  long,  slender  plank  and  set 
the  tubs  upon  it.  The  ends  of  the  plank  were 
bent  so  as  to  make  a  keel.  I  nailed  two  other 
planks  to  the  tubs  on  each  side,  bringing  the 
ends  together  to  form  bow  and  stern. 

We  pushed  our  little  craft  into  the  water, 
but  she  leaned  too  far  to  one  side.  We  threw 
in  some  heavy  things  and  the  boat  righted 
itself. 

The  boys  were  eager  to  start  at  once,  but  I 
forbade  them.  It  was  too  late  in  the  day  to 
make  the  attempt.  So,  for  one  night  more, 
we  slept  in  our   hammocks  on  the  wreck. 

—  Johann  David  Wtss. 


187 


THE   CARPENTER 
meas'ured       car'penter      perfectly       joints 

I  thought  I  could  saw,  and  I  thought  I  could 

plane, 
And  I  thought  I  was  clever  with  nails, 
And  I  mended  a  chair    (though    it's    broken 

again), 
And  I  once  made  a  couple  of  bails. 

But  directly  the  car- 
penter came  to 
our  house 

To  put  up  some 
shelves  in  the 
hall, 

And  I  sat  by  his 
side  just  as  still 
as  a  mouse, 

I  knew  I  knew  nothing  at  all. 

He  measured  each  part  with  the  greatest  of 

care, 
(A  foot  rule's  a  thing  I  don't  use), 


188 

He  labored  to  make  the  joints  perfectly  square, 
And  he  always  bored  holes  for  the  screws. 

Now  it's  all  very  well  to  go  hammering  round, 

And  to  look  on  a  tool  chest  as  fun ; 

But  in  future   my    carpenter   work    shall    be 

sound, 
And  done  once  for  all,  if  it's  done. 


—  E.  Lucas, 

GOING  ASHORE 

fla  min'goes 

mas'tiffs      pen'guins      tack 

can'vas 

Franz           Fritz               cou'i 

Next  morning  we  all  rose  early. 

"  Let  the  poor  animals  we  leave  behind  be 
well  fed,"  said  I.  "  Put  plenty  of  food  near 
them  also.  In  a  few  days  we  may  be  able  to 
return  for  them.  Then  gather  all  the  stores 
you  can  think  of." 

The  boys  joyfully  obeyed.  From  what  they 
brought,  I  chose  canvas  to  make  a  tent,  a 
chest  of  carpenter's  tools,  fishing  rod  and 
tackle,  an  iron  pot,  and  cases  of  meat  jelly 
and  biscuit. 


189 


With  a  prayer  to  God  we  now  took  our 
places,  each  in  one  of  the  tubs.  Just  then  we 
heard  the  cocks  crow. 

"  Why  should  not  the  fowls  go  with  us  % " 


I  cried.     "  If  we  fail  to  find  food  for  them, 
they  can  at  least  be  food  for  us." 

Ten  hens  and  a  couple  of  cocks  were  placed 
in    one  of  the  tubs.      The  ducks,  geese,  and 


190 

pigeons  were  set  at  liberty.  The  ducks  and 
geese  took  to  the  water,  while  the  pigeons 
flew  swiftly  toward  the  shore. 

Now  we  moved  slowly  from  the  wreck.  My 
wife  sat  in  the  front.  Next  her  was  Franz,  a 
pretty  boy  nearly  eight  years  old.  Next  came 
Fritz,  a  handsome,  manly  lad  of  fifteen.  The 
two  center  tubs  held  our  cargo.  Then  came 
Jack,  and  next  him  Ernest,  the  second  son.  I 
guided  the  raft  from  the  stern,  while  the  elder 
boys  rowed. 

We  had  left  behind  two  large  mastiffs,  Turk 
and  Juno.  They  would  have  been  too  heavy 
for  our  frail  raft.  But  when  they  saw  us  leav- 
ing, they  sprang  into  the  sea  and  followed. 

Many  casks  and  boxes  floated  on  the  water 
near  us.  Fritz  and  I  secured  a  couple  of 
hogsheads.  "  Perhaps  they  may  contain 
food,"  said  I.  "  Everything  is  of  value  just 
now." 

The  nearer  we  came  to  the  shore,  the  more 
barren  it  looked.  But  after  a  time  green  trees 
were  seen. 


191 

"  See  those  palm  trees,  papa,"  cried  Fritz. 
"  I  am  certain  they  are  palms." 

"  If  they  are  only  cocoa  palms,"  sighed 
Ernest,  "  how  happy  we  all  should  be  to 
drink  the  delicious  milk !  " 

Our  geese  and  ducks  were  swimming  to- 
ward an  opening  in  the  rocks.  Here  a  stream 
flowed  into  the  sea.  We  followed  and  found 
ourselves  in  a  small  bay. 

As  soon  as  our  boat  touched  the  shore, 
every  one  sprang  out  but  little  Franz.  He 
was  lifted  out  by  his  mother. 

The  dogs  received  us  with  loud  barks  of* 
delight.  The  geese  and  ducks  cackled  loudly, 
while  the  cries  of  the  flamingoes  and  penguins 
added  to  the  uproar. 

We  first  knelt  to  thank  God  for  our  escape. 
Then  we  went  in  search  of  a  good  tenting 
ground.  We  found  a  pleasant  spot  and  at 
once  pitched  the  tent. 

When  this  had  been  done,  the  boys  ran 
to  collect  moss  and  grass  to  spread  in  the 
tent    for    our    beds.       Meanwhile    I    built    a 


192 

fireplace  with  large,  flat  stones  from  the 
stream. 

Dry  twigs  and  seaweed  were  soon  blazing 
on  the  hearth.  My  wife,  with  the  help  of 
little  Franz,  prepared  supper. 

After  a  good  meal  we  were  all  ready  for 
rest.  We  closed  our  tent  door,  and  slept 
sweetly  on  rude  beds  of  grass  and  moss. 

COCOANUTS,  SUGAR  CANES,  AND  MONKEYS 

ex  pe  di'tion  wea'pon  jab'ber  ing 

pe  cul'iar  de  scend'ed  need'less  ly 

After  our  first  breakfast  on  shore,  it  was 
decided  that  Fritz  and  I  should  start  on  an 
exploring  expedition. 

We  armed  ourselves  with  guns,  a  pair  of 
pistols,  and  a  small  hatchet.  We  took  bis- 
cuits, part  of  the  lobster,  and  a  flask  of 
water  and  started  off,  followed  by  our  trusty 
dog  Turk. 

We  turned  our  steps  toward  the  seashore, 
which  we    soon   reached.     Then  we   pushed 


193 


on  until  we  came  to  a 
pleasant  grove.  Here  we 
halted  to  rest,  sitting  under 
a  large  tree. 

Fritz  thought  he  saw 
a  monkey  among  the 
branches.  He  started  up 
and  went  to  the  other  side 
of  the  tree  to  look.  In 
doing  so  he  stumbled  over 
something  round,  which  he 
picked  up  and  brought 
to  me. 

"  Is  this  a 
peculiar  sort 
of  bird's 
nest?"  he 
asked. 

"  No,"  laughed  I.     "  It  is  a  cocoanut." 
We  split  open  the  nut,  but  the  kernel  was 
dry  and  uneatable. 

"  I    always  thought,"  cried  Fritz,  "  that  a 
cocoanut  was  full  of  sweet  liquid  like  milk." 

coe's  third  r.  — 13 


194 

"  So  it  is,"  I  replied,  "  when  young  and 
fresh.  As  it  ripens,  however,  the  milk 
thickens,  and  in  course  of  time  hardens  into  a 
kernel.  When  the  nut  falls  on  favorable 
soil,  the  germ  within  the  kernel  swells  until 
it  bursts  through  the  shell.  Then  it  takes 
root  and  begins  to  grow." 

"  I  do  not  understand,"  said  Fritz,  "  how 
the  little  plant  gets  through  this  thick 
shell." 

"  Trust  Nature,"  I  answered.  "  Look  here. 
Do  you  see  these  three  round  holes  near 
the  stalk?  It  is  through  them  that  the 
plantlet  gets  out." 

Our  way  now  led  through  a  thicket  so 
densely  overgrown  with  creeping  plants  that 
we  were  forced  to  use  our  hatchet  to  open 
a  path. 

Presently  we  descended  a  hill.  At  a 
little  distance  was  a  clump  of  palm  trees. 
To  reach  them  we  had  to  pass  through  a 
dense  thicket  of  weeds,  where  I  feared  at 
every  step  that  we  might  tread  on  a  snake, 


195 

I  sent  Turk  in  advance.  Then  I  cut  one 
of  the  reeds,  thinking  it  would  be  a  useful 
weapon  against  a  snake.  I  had  carried  it 
but  a  little  way,  when  I  noticed  a  thick  juice 
coming  from  one  end.  I  tasted  it,  and  found 
it  sweet  and  pleasant.  I  knew  then  that  I 
was  standing  amongst  sugar  canes. 

"Fritz  must  make  the  same  discovery," 
thought  I.  So  I  said  aloud,  "  Fritz,  cut 
yourself  a  cane,  for  we  may  meet  a  snake." 

He  did  so,  and  as  he  walked  he'  beat  the 
canes  with  it  right  and  left.  Presently  it  split, 
and  he  found  his  hand  covered  with  juice. 

He  carefully  touched  the  cane  with  the 
tip  of  his  tongue.  Finding  the  juice  sweet, 
he  tasted  it  again. 

"  Oh,  father,  sugar  canes !  sugar  canes !  "  he 
cried.     "  We  must  take  a  lot  home  with  us." 

He  cut  a  dozen  of  the  largest  and  tucked 
them  under  his  arm.  We  then  pushed 
through  the  canebrake  and  reached  the 
clump  of  palms. 

Immediately  a   troop   of  monkeys    sprang 


196 

up,  jabbering  at  us  and  grinding  their  teeth. 
Before  we  could  see  them  clearly,  they  had 
darted  to  the  very  top  of  the  cocoanut  trees. 
Fritz  was  so  provoked  that  he  raised  his  gun 
and  would  have  shot  one  of  the  poor  beasts. 

"  Stay !  "  cried  I.  "  Never  take  the  life  of 
any  animal  needlessly.  A  live  monkey  up 
in  that  tree  is  of  more  use  than  a  dozen 
dead  ones  at  our  feet.     See !  " 

I  had  gathered  a  handful  of  small  stones, 
which  I  now  threw  up  at  the  monkeys. 
The  stones  did  not  go  near  them,  but  the 
little  creatures  became  very  angry.  They 
seized  all  the  cocoanuts  within  their  reach  and 
sent  a  perfect  hail  of  them  down  upon  us. 

Fritz  laughed  with  delight  as  he  picked 
up  some  of  the  finest  of  the  nuts.  We 
drank  the  milk  by  drawing  it  through  the 
holes  which  we  had  pierced  in  the  shell. 
Afterwards  we  split  the  nuts  open  with  the 
hatchet  and  ate  the  cream  which  lined   the 

shells.  — Johann  David  Wyss. 


197 

THE   CAPTAIN'S  DAUGHTER 

shattered  rat'tling  staggered 

anchored  breakers  shud'dered 

We  were  crowded  in  the  cabin, 
Not  a  soul  would  dare  to  sleep,  — 

It  was  midnight  on  the  waters, 
And  a  storm  was  on  the  deep. 

'Tis  a  fearful  thing  in  winter,     0 . 

To  be  shattered  by  the  blast, 
And  to  hear  the  rattling  trumpet 

Thunder,  "  Cut  away  the  mast !  " 

So  we  shuddered  there  in  silence,  — . 

For  the  stoutest  held  his  breath, 
While  the  hungry  sea  was  roaring, 

And  the  breakers  talked  with  Death. 

As  thus  we  sat  in  darkness, 

Each  one  busy  with  his  prayers, 

"  We  are  lost !  "  the  captain  shouted,  . 
As  he  staggered  down  the  stairs. 


198 

But  his  little  daughter  whispered, 

As  she  took  his  icy  hand, 
"  Isn't  God  upon  the  ocean, 

Just  the  same  as  on  the  land  ?  " 

Then  we  kissed  the  little  maiden, 
And  we  spoke  in  better  cheer, 

And  we  anchored  safe  in  harbor 
When  the  morn  was  shining  clear. 

—  James  T.  Fields. 

ARTHUR   AND   THE  SWORD 

tour'ney     en  chant'er       ad  vised'  Ec'tor 

U'ther        archbish'op     Canterbury    to'ken 

Fourteen  hundred  years  ago  there  were  sad 
times  in  England.  The  King,  Uther  Pen- 
dragon,  was  dead.  His  little  son,  who  should 
have  been  king  in  his  stead,  had  disappeared. 

No  one  knew  where  the  prince  was.  Some 
believed  that  the  secret  was  known  to  Merlin, 
the  old  enchanter.  But  when  the  boldest 
asked  him,  he  shook  his  white  head  and 
answered  never  a  word. 


199 

In  those  days  there  were  very  few  laws. 
The  rich  lords  fought  each  other ;  they  were 
cruel  to  the  poor.  Every  year  the  rich  grew 
more  savage  and  the  poor  more  wretched. 

Now  the  head  of  the  church  was  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury.  He  was  a  good  man, 
and  full  of  pity  for  both  rich  and  poor. 

"  England  needs  a  king,"  he  said  to  Merlin. 
"  Can  you  not  help  to  find  one  for  her  ?  " 

"Call  all  the  nobles  to  St.  Paul's  on 
Christmas  Day,"  advised  Merlin/  "  There 
shall  they  learn  who   shall  be  king." 

So  the  nobles  of  England  rode  to  London 
and  heard  mass  in  the  great  church  on 
Christmas  Day.  As  they  left  the  church, 
they  saw  a  strange  sight. 

In  the  churchyard  stood  a  huge  stone, 
crossed  by  a  bar  of  steel.  In  the  steel  was 
held  by  the  sharp  point  a  wonderful  shining 
sword.  About  the  sword  were  gold  letters. 
The  knights  drew  near  and  read :  "Whoso 
pulleth  out  this  sword  shall  be  king  of  Eng- 
land." 


200 

They  looked  at  one  another  in  awe  for  a 
moment.  Then  they  each  attempted  to  draw 
the  sword.  Strong  men  tugged  and  pulled, 
but  to  no  purpose.  Not  a  noble  could  draw 
the  sword. 

The  archbishop  was  content,  for  he  knew 
that  no  knight  there  could  rule  himself.  So, 
of  course,  he  could  not  rule  England. 

"  The  king  is  not  here,"  said  the  arch- 
bishop, "but  in  good  time  God  will  make  him 
known.  Meanwhile,  let  us  set  a  guard  of  ten 
knights  about  the  stone."     And  it  was  done. 

On  New  Year's  Day  there  was  to  be  a 
tourney.  Among  those  who  came  to  London 
was  a  brave  knight,  Sir  Ector.  With  him 
were  his  son,  Sir  Kay,  and  Kay's  foster 
brother,  Arthur. 

As  they  rode,  Kay  suddenly  found  that  he 
had  forgotten  his  sword. 

"  Arthur,"  he  said,  "  I  pray  you  to  ride 
back  for  my  sword." 

Arthur  hastened  home,  but  the  house  was 
locked.     Every  one  had  gone  to  the  tourney. 


201 

"  Shall  Kay  lack  a  sword  to-day  % "  cried 
Arthur.  "  Never!  I  will  take  the  one  from 
St.  Paul's   Churchyard  first." 

The  stone  was  unguarded,  for  the  ten 
knights  were  on  their  way  to  the  tourney 
with  all  the  rest  of  the  world. 

The  lightest  touch  drew  the  sword  from  its 
place.     It  was  Arthur's  ! 

He  never  stopped  to  read  the  gold  writing, 
but  hastened  to  give  the  sword  to  Kay. 

Sir  Kay  knew  the  sword  at  once/  He  rode 
to  Sir  Ector  and  showed  him  the  wonderful 
token.  "  Father,  now  am  I  king  of  Eng- 
land." 

But  Sir  Ector  doubted.  He  led  both  the 
young  men  to  the  church  and,  before  the  high 
altar,  he  questioned  Kay.  "My  brother 
Arthur  gave  me  the  sword,"  admitted  the 
young  knight. 

"  I  will  show  you  where  I  found  it,"  said 
Arthur.  He  led  them  to  the  rock  and  placed 
the  point  of  the  sword  as  before.  Instantly 
it  was  held  as  by  grips  of  steel.     Neither  Sir 


202 


Ector    nor    Sir    Kay    could    take    again    the 
sword. 

"Now,   Arthur,"   said    Sir   Ector.     At   the 

lad's  touch,  the 
sword  came 
forth  as  lightly 
as  a  feather. 

Sir  Ector  and 
Sir  Kay  fell  upon 
their  knees. 

"Why  do 
you  kneel  to  me, 
father?"  cried 
Arthur.  "Hike 
it  not." 

"  I  kneel  to 
my  king  and 
England's,"  said  Sir  Ector.  "You  are  not 
my  son,  although  I  have  loved  you  as  a  son. 
"  Years  ago  Merlin  brought  you  to  me,  a 
little,  helpless  babe.  Now  I  know  you  for  the 
son  of  Uther  Pendragon." 

The  nobles  and  the  people  were  gathered 


203 

together.  When  it  was  seen  that  Arthur 
alone  could  move  the  sword,  the  people  cried: 
"  Long  live  King  Arthur !  He  and  he  only 
shall  be  our  king !  " 

Then  Arthur  was  made  a  knight.  Then 
the  archbishop  set  the  crown  upon  his  bright 
hair,  and  there  he  promised  to  be  a  true  king 
and  to  deal  wisely  and  justly  all  his  days. 
And  this  great  pledge  he  faithfully  kept. 

ARTHUR  AND   THE   SWORD   EXCALIBUR 

Ex  cal'i  bur  vanished  con  di'tion  Pel'li  nore 
scab'bard       com'bat      vic'tor  daz'zling 

King  Arthur  did  not  hold  himself  above 
the  combat.  He  loved  to  cross  swords  on  a 
fair  field  with  any  good  knight.  Usually  the 
king  was  the  victor,  but  at  rare  times  he  met 
his  match. 

Once  was  when  he  faced  Sir  Pellinore. 
There  was  a  long,  fierce  fight  between  them, 
until  Pellinore  smote  Arthur's  sword  in  two 
pieces. 


204 

"  Yield  thee! "  cried  the  knight.  "  Yield,  or  I 
will  slay  thee." 

"Death  is  welcome,"  said  Arthur.  "I 
would  die  rather  than  yield."  With  these 
words  he  rushed  on  the  knight,  seized  him 
about  the  waist,  and  threw  him  down. 

But  Pellinore  arose  again  and  would  have 
slain  Arthur,  had  not  Merlin  appeared. 

"  Stay ! "  cried  Merlin.  "  This  knight  is  one 
greater  than  thou  thinkest." 

"  Why,  who  is  he  ?  "  asked  Sir  Pellinore. 

"Thy  king!" 

Then  Sir  Pellinore,  afraid  because  of 
what  he  had  done,  tried  yet  harder  to  slay 
Arthur.  Merlin,  however,  cast  a  spell  upon 
him  so  that  he  fell  to  the  earth  in  a  great 
sleep. 

Arthur  thought  him  dead.  "Merlin,  why 
hast  thou  destroyed  this  good  knight  ? "  he 
cried.     "  He  was  mine  own  fair  foe." 

"  Fear  not,  Arthur,"  answered  the  sage. 
"  He  shall  rise  up  again  in  three  hours." 

Then  Merlin  guided  Arthur  to  the  home  of 


205 

a  hermit.  This  hermit  tended  his  wounds, 
and  in  three  days  he  was  healed. 

Then  said  the  king  to  Merlin,  "  I  have  no 
sword." 

"  Thou  shalt  have  one  in  due  season." 

So  they  rode  for  hours  until  they  reached 
the  shores  of  a  wonderful  lake  In  the  midst 
of  the  lake  the  king  saw  an  arm  rising  above 
the  water  and  holding  aloft  a  sword. 

"  Behold  the  sword,"  said  Merlin. 

Arthur  looked  again  and  saw  a  maiden  in 
white  coming  toward  him. 

"  This  is  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  said 
Merlin.  "The  sword  is  hers.  Speak  fairly 
to  her,  and  she  may  give  it  to  you." 

"  Maiden,"  said  Arthur,  "  whose  sword  is 
this  I  see  %  I  would  it  were  mine,  for  I  have 
lost  my  sword." 

"  Thou  shalt  have  the  sword,  King  Arthur, 
on  one  condition.  It  is  that  you  will  give  me 
a  gift  when  I  ask  it." 

"  By  my  word,"  said  Arthur.  "  Thou  shalt 
have  whatever  gift  thou  shalt  ask." 


206 


"  Close  at  hand  is  a  barge,"  said  the  Lady 
of  the  Lake.  "  Row  out  and  take  Excalibur, 
but  forget  not  the  scabbard  also." 

King  Arthur  and  Merlin  tied  their  horses 
safely  and  paddled  out  to  the  center  of  the 

lake.  When 
Arthur  took  the 
sword  by  the 
hilt,  the  arm 
vanished. 

As  they  rode 
on  their  way, 
Arthur  often 
looked  with 
joy  at  his  new 
sword.  Excali- 
bur was  indeed 
beautiful.  The 
hilt  was  rich 
with  dazzling  jewels,  and  the  blade  was  so 
bright  that  its  light  blinded  the  eyes  of  men. 

"  Which  dost  thou  like  the  better  1  "  asked 
Merlin,  "  the  sword  or  the  scabbard  ?  " 


207 

"  The  sword,"  replied  Arthur. 

"  You  are  not  wise.  The  scabbard  is  worth 
ten  such  swords.  Keep  it  by  you  always. 
For  as  long  as  it  is  buckled  on  you,  you 
will  lose  no  blood,  however  sorely  you  are 
wounded." 

Thus  came  King  Arthur  by  his  famous 
sword  Excalibur. 

THE  SETTING  UP  OF  THE  ROUND  TABLE 

Cam'e  lot  hom'age 

Guin'e  vere  Le'o  de  grance 

King  Arthur  came  to  Merlin  one  day  and 
said,  "  My  barons  bid  me  take  a  wife.  What 
is  thy  advice  ?  " 

"  The  thought  is  a  good  one,"  said  Merlin. 
"  Is  there  any  woman  whom  you  love  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Arthur,  "  I  love  Guinevere,  the 
daughter  of  King  Leodegrance.  To  him  my 
father  gave  a  Bound  Table.  Guinevere  is  the 
fairest  maiden  that  I  have  ever  seen." 

"  She   is    beautiful,     indeed,"    said    Merlin. 


208 

"  But  I  can  find  you  a  maiden  as  fair,  and  one 
of  greater  goodness.  But  I  see  your  heart  is 
set." 

So  Merlin,  with  a  fair  company  of  knights, 
rode  to  ask  King  Leodegrance  for  the  hand 
of  his  daughter. 

"  This  is  good  news,"  said  the  king. 
"  Little  did  I  think  that  the  great  King 
Arthur  would  wish  to  marry  my  child.  As  a 
wedding  gift  I  shall  send  him  what  he  will 
value  more  than  lands  or  treasure.  I  shall 
send  him  the  Round  Table  that  Uther  Pen- 
dragon  gave  me.  There  are  places  at  the 
table  for  *  one  hundred  and  fifty  knights. 
Once  I  had  that  goodly  number,  but  the  wars 
have  slain  fifty.  However,  the  hundred  shall 
go  with  Guinevere." 

When  Arthur  heard  the  king's  answer,  he 
said,  "  This  is  good  news  indeed.  I  have 
long  loved  Guinevere,  and  I  value  the  Round 
Table  more  than  great  riches." 

Then  Merlin  sought  fifty  brave  and  famous 
knights  through    the  length   and  breadth  of 


V*    1       fOI 

-31 

4 

:              -:v 

!fl 

U 

— "fca^JgS 

T  \  oi 

-;  ^ '-    :  v 

1 

■mp& 

•^ 

'A  1 

? 

■  ■■ ..,  .■ 

w^'S'-r 

<#§! 

,  •--« 

flSr  . 

S,V  "' 

for 

K   1 

i 

y  r  9  * 

V 

f '  4 

\fc_ 

^ 

BB  #  dm  EkY 

V/ 

•'1  ' ' 

P5     - 

■ 



(2t".0  Sir  Galahad. 

coe's  third  r.  — 14 


210 

England.  But  he  only  found  eight  and 
twenty. 

The  Round  Table  was  set  up  at  Camelot. 
The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  came  to  bless 
the  seats  that  were  placed  around  the  table. 

After  the  blessing,  Arthur  entered. 

"  Rise,  fair  Sirs,"  said  Merlin,  "  and  pay 
your  homage  to  the  king." 

Afterwards  it  was  seen  that  the  name  of 
every  knight  was  written  in  his  seat  in  letters 
of  gold.     But  two  of  the  seats  bore  no  names. 

"  Why  are  these  places  empty  %  "  asked  the 
king  of  Merlin. 

"No  man  save  the  worthiest  may  sit  in 
these  seats.  One  is  the  Seat  Perilous.  There 
only  one  man  in  the  whole  earth  shall  be 
found  worthy  to  sit." 

Then  Merlin  took  Sir  Pellinore  by  the  hand 
and  placed  him  next  the  Perilous  Seat.  "  This 
is  your  place,"  he  said ;  "  for  of  all  here  you 
are  the  most  worthy."  This  was  the  same  Sir 
Pellinore  who  had  well-nigh  slain  the  king. 

Next  day  King  Arthur  wedded  Guinevere. 


211 

The  knights  of  the  Round  Table  were  there, 
rejoicing  in  their  vows  to  the  king.  They  had 
laid  aside  their  armor  and  were  robed  in 
white.  It  was  a  day  of  holy  joy  to  all. 
Thus  was  set  up  the  Table  Round  in  Camelot. 

SEVEN   TIMES    ONE   ARE   SEVEN 
col'um  bine  cuck'oo  pint  marsh'ma  ry 

There's  no  dew  left  on  the  daisies  and  clover, 

There's  no  rain  left  in  heaven ; 
I've  said  my  "  seven  times  "  over  and  over, 

Seven  times  one  are  seven. 

I  am  old,  so  old  I  can  write  a  letter ; 

My  birthday  lessons  are  done ; 
The  lambs  play  always,  they  know  no  better ; 

They  are  only  one  times  one. 

0  moon !  in  the  night  I  have  seen  you  sailing 

And  shining  so  round  and  low ; 
You  were  bright !  ah,  bright !  but  your  light 
is  failing,  — 

You  are  nothing  now  but  a  bow. 


212 

You  moon,  have  you  done  something  wrong 
in  heaven 

That  God  has  hidden  your  face  ? 
I  hope  if  you  have  you  will  soon  be  forgiven 

And  shine  again  in  your  place. 

0  velvet  bee,  you're  a  dusty  fellow  ; 

You've  powdered  your  legs  with  gold ! 
0  brave  marshmary  buds,  rich  and  yellow, 

Give  me  your  money  to  hold ! 

0  columbine,  open  your  folded  wrapper, 
Where  two  twin  turtledoves  dwell ! 

0  cuckoopint,  toll  me  the  purple  clapper 
That  hangs  in  your  clear  green  bell ! 

And  show  me  your  nest,  with  the  young  ones 
in  it,  — 
I  will  not  steal  it  away ; 

1  am  old !  you  may  trust  me,  linnet,  linnet,  — 

I  am  seven  times  one  to-day. 

—  Jean  Ingelow, 


213 


THE   NECKLACE   OF   TRUTH 


ad  mi  ra'tion 
Cor'a  lie 


am'e  thyst 
mag  nif  i  cent 


Once  there  was  a  little  girl  named  Coralie. 
She  had  but  one  fault.     She  told  falsehoods. 

Her  parents  tried  to  cure  her  in  many 
ways,  but  in  vain.  Finally  they  decided  to 
take  her  to  the  enchanter  Merlin. 

The  enchanter  Merlin  lived  in  a  glass 
palace.  He  loved  truth.  He  knew  liars  by 
their  odor  a  league  off.     When  Coralie  came 


214 

toward  the  castle,  Merlin  was  forced  to  burn 
vinegar  to  keep  himself  from  being  ill. 

Coralie's  mother  began  to  explain  the  rea- 
son for  their  coming.  But  Merlin  stopped 
her. 

"  I  know  all  about  your  daughter,  my  good 
lady,"  he  said.  "  She  is  one  of  the  greatest 
liars  in  the  world.     She  often  makes  me  ill." 

Merlin's  face  looked  so  stern  that  Coralie 
hid  her  face  under  her  mother's  cloak.  Her 
father  stood  before  her  to  keep  her  from 
harm. 

"Do  not  fear,"  said  Merlin.  "I  am  not 
going  to  hurt  your  little  girl.  I  only  wish 
to  make  her  a  present." 

He  opened  a  drawer  and  took  from  it  a 
magnificent  amethyst  necklace.  It  was  fas- 
tened with  a  shining  clasp  of  diamonds. 

Merlin  put  the  necklace  on  Coralie's  neck 
and  said,  "  Go  in  peace,  my  friends.  Your 
little  daughter  carries  with  her  a  sure  guar- 
dian of  the  truth." 

Then  he  looked  sternly  at  Coralie  and  said, 


215 

"  In  a  year  I  shall  come  for  my  necklace.  Do 
not  dare  to  take  it  off  for  a  single  moment. 
If  you  do,  harm  will  come  to  you !  " 

"  Oh,  I  shall  always  love  to  wear  it !  It 
is  so  beautiful !  "  cried  Coralie. 

This  is  the  way  she  came  by  the  wonderful 
Necklace  of  Truth. 

The  day  after  Coralie  returned  home  she 
was  sent  to  school.  As  she  had  long  been 
absent,  the  little  girls  crowded  round  her. 
There  was  a  cry  of  admiration  at 'sight  of 
the  necklace. 

" Where  did  it  come  from?  Where  did 
you  get  it  %  "  they  asked. 

"  I  was  sick  for  along  time,"  replied  Coralie. 
"  When  I  got  well,  Mamma  and  Papa  gave 
me  the  necklace." 

A  loud  cry  rose  from  all  at  once.  The 
diamonds  of  the  clasp  had  grown  dim.  They 
now  looked  like  coarse  glass. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  have  been  sick !  What 
are  you  making  such  a  fuss  about  ] " 

At  this  second  falsehood  the  amethysts,  in 


216 

turn,  changed  to  ugly  yellow  stones.  A  new 
cry  arose.  Coralie  was  frightened  at  the 
strange  behavior  of  her  necklace. 

"  I  have  been  to  the  enchanter  Merlin,"  she 
said  very  humbly. 

Immediately  the  necklace  looked  as  beauti- 
ful as  ever.     But  the  children  teased  her. 

"You  need  not  laugh,"  said  Coralie,  "for 
Merlin  was  very  glad  to  see  us.  He  sent  his 
carriage  to  the  next  town  to  meet  us.  Such  a 
splendid  carriage,  with  six  white  horses,  pink 
satin  cushions,  and  a  negro  coachman  with 
powdered  hair.  Merlin's  palace  is  all  of 
jasper  and  gold.  He  met  us  at  the  door  and 
led  us  to  the  dining  room.  There  stood  a 
long  table  covered  with  delicious  things  to 
eat.     First  of  all  we  ate  —  " 

Coralie  stopped,  for  the  children  were  laugh- 
ing till  the  tears  rolled  down  their  cheeks. 
She  glanced  at  her  necklace  and  shuddered. 
With  each  new  falsehood,  the  necklace  had 
become  longer  and  longer,  till  it  already 
dragged  on  the  ground. 


217 

"  Coralie,  you  are  stretching  the  truth," 
cried  the  girls. 

"  Well,  I  confess  it.  We  walked,  and  we 
stayed  there  only  five  minutes." 

The  necklace  shrunk  at  once  to  its  proper 
size. 

"  The  necklace  —  the  necklace  —  where  did 
it  come  from  %  " 

"  He  gave  it  to  me  without  saying  a  word. 
I  think  — " 

She  had  not  time  to  finish.  The  fatal 
necklace  grew  shorter  and  shorter  till  it 
choked  her.     She  gasped  for  breath. 

"  You  are  keeping  back  part  of  the  truth," 
cried  her  schoolmates. 

"  He  said  —  that  I  was  —  one  of  the 
greatest  —  liars  in  the  world." 

The  necklace  loosened  about  her  neck,  but 
Coralie  still  cried  with  pain. 

"  That  was  why  Merlin  gave  me  the  neck- 
lace. He  said  that  it  would  make  me  truth- 
ful. What  a  fool  I  have  been  to  be  proud 
of  it!" 


218 

Her  playmates  were  sorry  for  her.  "  If  I 
were  in  your  place,"  said  one  of  them,  "  I 
should  send  back  the  necklace.  Why  do  you 
not  take  it  off?" 

Poor  Coralie  did  not  wish  to  speak.  The 
stones,  however,  began  to  dance  up  and  down 
and  to  make  a  terrible  clatter. 

"  There  is  something  that  you  have  not 
told  us,"  laughed  the  little  girls. 

"  I  like  to  wear  it." 

Oh,  how  the  diamonds  and  amethysts 
danced  !     It  was  worse  than  ever. 

"  Tell  us  the  reason  you  are  hiding." 

"  Well,  I  see  I  can  hide  nothing.  Merlin 
forbade  me  to  take  it  off.  He  said  great 
harm  would  come  if  I  disobeyed." 

Thanks  to  the  enchanted  necklace,  Coralie 
became  a  truthful  child.  Long  before  the 
year  had  passed,  Merlin  came  for  his  neck- 
lace. He  needed  it  for  another  child  who 
told  falsehoods. 

No  one  can  tell  to-day  what  has  become  of 
the  wonderful  Necklace  of  Truth.     But  if  I 


219 

were  a  little  child  in  the  habit  of  telling  false- 
hoods, I  should  not  feel  quite  sure  that  it 
might  not  be  found  again  some  fine  day. 

—  Adapted  from  Mace's  Fairy  Book. 

DAVID   AND   GOLIATH 

as  sayed'  eph'ah  pre  vail' 

Beth'le  hem  Go  li'ath  shek'els 

cham'pi  on  dis  dained'  Phi  lis'tines 

coun'te  nance  Ek'ron  cu'bits 

Now  the  Philistines  gathered  "  together 
their  armies  to  battle. 

And  the  Philistines  stood  on  a  mountain 
on  the  one  side,  and  Israel  stood  on  a  moun- 
tain on  the  other  side  :  and  there  was  a  valley 
between  them. 

And  there  went  out  a  champion  out  of  the 
camp  of  the  Philistines,  named  Goliath  of 
Gath,  whose  height  was  six  cubits  and  a  span. 

And  he  had  a  helmet  of  brass  upon  his 
head,  and  he  was  armed  with  a  coat  of  mail ; 
and  the  weight  of  the  coat  was  five  thousand 
shekels  of  brass. 


220 

And  his  spear's  head  weighed  six  hundred 
shekels  of  iron:  and  one  bearing  a  shield 
went  before  him. 

And  he  stood  and  cried  unto  the  armies 
of  Israel,  and  said  unto  them,  Why  are  you 
come  out  to  set  your  battle  in  array  ?  Am 
not  I  a  Philistine,  and  ye  servants  to  Saul? 
Choose  you  a  man  for  you,  and  let  him 
come  down  to  me. 

If  he  be  able  to  fight  with  me,  and  to 
kill  me,  then  will  we  be  your  servants  :  but 
if  I  prevail  against  him  and  kill  him,  then 
shall  ye  be  our  servants  and  serve  us. 

When  Saul  and  all  Israel  heard  these 
words  of  the  Philistines,  they  were  dismayed 
and  greatly  afraid. 

Now  David  was  the  son  of  Jesse;  and 
Jesse  had  eight  sons: 

And  the  three  eldest  sons  of  Jesse  went 
and  followed  Saul  to  the  battle ; 

And  David  was  the  youngest :  he  fed  his 
father's  sheep  at  Bethlehem. 

And  Jesse  said  unto  David  his  son,  Take 


221 

now  for  thy  brethren  an  ephah  of  this 
parched  corn,  and  these  ten  loaves,  and  run 
to  the  camp  to  thy  brethren; 

And  carry  these  ten  cheeses  unto  the 
captain  of  their  thousand,  and  look  how  thy 
brethren  fare,  and  take  their  pledge. 

And  David  rose  up  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  left  the  sheep  with  a  keeper,  and 
took,  and  went,  as  Jesse  had  commanded  him ; 
and  he  came  to  the  trench,  as  the  host  was 
going  forth  to  the  fight,  and  shouted'  for  the 
battle. 

And  David  left  his  carriage  in  the  hand 
of  the  keeper  of  the  carriage,  and  ran  into 
the  army,  and  came  and  saluted  his  brethren. 

And  as  he  talked  with  them,  behold,  there 
came  up  the  champion  (the  Philistine  of 
Gath,  Goliath  by  name)  out  of  the  armies 
of  the  Philistines,  and  spake  according  to  the 
same  words :  and  David  heard  them. 

And  all  the  men  of  Israel,  when  they  saw 
the  man,  fled  from  him,  and  were  sore  afraid. 

And   David    said   to    Saul,    Let   no    man's 


"There  came  a  lion  .  .  .  and 
(222) 


223 

heart  fail  because  of  him  ;  thy  servant  will 
go  and  fight  with  this  Philistine. 

And  Saul  said  to  David,  Thou  art  not 
able  to  go  against  this  Philistine  to  fight 
with  him :  for  thou  art  but  a  youth,  and 
he  a  man  of  war  from  his  youth. 

And  David  said  unto  Saul,  Thy  servant 
kept  his  father's  sheep,  and  there  came  a 
lion  and  a  bear,  and  took  a  lamb  out  of  the 
flock ; 

And  I  went  out  after  him,  and  smote  him, 
and  delivered  it  out  of  his  mouth :  and  when 
he  arose  against  me,  I  caught  him  by  his 
beard,  and  smote  him,  and  slew  him. 

David  said  moreover,  The  Lord  that  de- 
livered me  out  of  the  paw  of  the  lion,  and 
out  of  the  paw  of  the  bear,  he  will  deliver 
me  out  of  the  hand  of  this  Philistine.  And 
Saul  said  unto  David,  Go,  and  the  Lord  be 
with  thee. 

And  Saul  armed  David  with  his  armor, 
and  he  put  a  helmet  of  brass  upon  his  head ; 
also  he  armed  him  with  a  coat  of  mail. 


224 

And  David  girded  his  sword  upon  his 
armor,  and  he  assayed  to  go  ;  for  he  had 
not  proved  it.  And  David  said  unto  Saul, 
I  cannot  go  with  these ;  for  I  have  not 
proved  them.     And  David  put  them  off  him. 

And  he  took  his  staff  in  his  hand,  and 
chose  him  five  smooth  stones  out  of  the 
brook,  and  put  them  in  a  shepherd's  bag 
which  he  had,  even  in  a  scrip ;  and  his 
sling  was  in  his  hand :  and  he  drew  near 
the  Philistine. 

And  the  Philistine  came  on  and  drew  near 
unto  David ;  and  the  man  that  bear  the  shield 
went  before  him. 

And  when  the  Philistine  looked  about  and 
saw  David,  he  disdained  him  ;  for  he  was  but 
a  youth  and  ruddy  and  of  fair  countenance. 

And  the  Philistine  said  unto  David,  Am  I 
a  dog  that  thou  comest  to  me  with  stones  ? 
And  the  Philistine  cursed  David  by  his  gods. 

And  the  Philistine  said  to  David,  Come  to 
me  and  I  will  give  thy  flesh  to  the  fowls  of 
the  air  and  to  the  beasts  of  the  fields. 


225 

Then  said  David  to  the ,  Philistine,  Thou 
comest  to  me  with  a  sword  and  with  a  spear 
and  with  a  shield  ;  but  I  come  to  thee  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  of  hosts,  the  God  of  the 
armies  of  Israel,  whom  thou  hast  defied. 

This  day  will  the  Lord  deliver  thee  into 
mine  hand  ;  and  I  will  smite  thee,  and  take 
thine  head  from  thee ;  and  I  will  give  the 
carcases  of  the  host  of  the  Philistines  this  day 
unto  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  to  the  wild 
beasts  of  the  earth ;  that  all  the  earth  may 
know  that  there  is  a  God  in  Israel. 

And  all  the  assembly  shall  know  that  the 
Lord  saveth  not  with  sword  and  spear :  for 
the  battle  is  the  Lord's  and  he  will  give  you 
into  our  hands. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  when  the  Philistine 
arose,  and  came  and  drew  nigh  to  meet  David, 
that  David  hasted,  and  ran  toward  the  armv 
to  meet  the  Philistine. 

And  David  put  his  hand  in  his  bag,  and 
took  thence  a  stone,  and  slang  it,  and  smote 
the  Philistine  in  his  forehead,  that  the  stone 

cok's  third  r.  — 15 


226 


David. 


sunk  into  his  forehead ;  and  he  fell  upon  his 
face  to  the  earth. 

So  David  prevailed  over  the  Philistine  with 


227 

a  sling  and  with  a  stone,  and  smote  the  Philis- 
tine, and  slew  him ;  but  there  was  no  sword 
in  the  hand  of  David. 

Therefore  David  ran  and  stood  upon  the 
Philistine,  and  took  his  sword,  and  drew  it  out 
of  the  sheath  thereof,  and  slew  him,  and  cut 
off  his  head  therewith.  And  when  the 
Philistines  saw  their  champion  was  dead, 
they  fled. 

And  the  men  of  Israel  and  of  Judah  arose 
and  shouted  and  pursued  the  Philistines,  until 
thou  come  to  the  valley,  and  to  the  gates  of 
Ekron :  and  the  wounded  of  the  Philistines 
fell  down  by  the  way. 

And  David  took  the  head  of  the  Philistine, 
and  brought  it  to  Jerusalem.         —  The  Bible. 

A  PSALM   OF  DAVID 
a  noint'est  psalm  right'eous  ness 

The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,  I  shall  not  want. 
He  maketh  me  to  lie  down  in  green  pas- 
tures :  he  leadeth  me  beside  the  still  waters. 


(228) 


The  Good  Shepherd. 


229 

He  restoreth  my  soul :  he  leadeth  me  in  the 
paths  of  righteousness  for  his  name's  sake. 

Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil :  for 
thou  art  with  me ;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they 
comfort  me. 

Thou  preparest  a  table  before  me  in  the 
presence  of  mine  enemies  ;  thou  anointest  my 
head  with  oil ;  my  cup  runneth  over. 

Surely  goodness  and  mercy  shall  follow  me 
all  the  days  of  my  life ;  and  I  will  dwell  in 
the  house  of  the  Lord  for  ever.    —The  Bible. 


THE   GAME  OF   HY  SPY 


Aa'ron 
ben'e  fit 
pau'tious  ly 
in  fe'ri  or 
dis  cov'er  y 
agree 'ably 


dis  sat'is  fied    mar'tyrs 
ex  pe'ri  ence     re  leased' 


in  cau'tious 
re  solved' 
ven'tured 
ex  act'ness 


rec  on  noi'ter  ing 
so  lem'ni  ty 
sat'is  fied 
com'ic  al 


The  children    went  out  on  the   barn    floor 
and  stood  in  a    semicircle,   while    Ralph  re- 


280 

peated    with    much     solemnity     and     exact- 
ness,— 

"  Eggs,  cheese,  butter,  bread, 
Stick,  stock,  stone  dead." 

to  see  who  would  be  "  it." 

Ralph  said  this  over  and  over,  till  every  one 
was  out  but  Teddy. 


"  There,"  said  Ralph,  "  Teddy  is  it.  Now, 
Teddy,  don't  you  count  too  fast.  Count  out 
loud,  so  we  can  hear  you." 

Teddy  hid  his  face  on  the  post  by  the  horse 
manger,  and  began  counting  very  loud    and 


231 

fast,  so  that  it  sounded  almost  like  one  word. 
There  was  a  great  deal  of  tittering  and  scam- 
pering about. 

"  Ninety-eight  —  ninety-nine  —  one- hun- 
dred !  "  shouted  Teddy,  whirling  round. 

The  barn  was  still  as  night.  Old  Kate 
blinked  over  the  manger  at  him  in  a  wise  way, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  know,  but  I  shan't  tell." 

Teddy  looked  sharply  all  around,  keeping 
hold  of  the  post  with  one  hand.  What  was 
that  bit  of  red,  down  by  the  east  Tiaymow  % 
He  went  a  little  nearer. 

"  Touch  the  goal  for  Lois  and  Millie ! " 
shouted  Teddy,  rushing  back. 

"  Touch  the  goal  for  my  own  self!  "  cried 
Roy,  hopping  out  of  the  horse  manger  and 
clasping  the  post  before  Teddy  could  reach  it. 

Lois  and  Millie  crawled  out  of  a  hole  in  the 
haymow,  with  hair  full  of  hayseed  and  bits 
of  straw. 

"  How  did  you  know  where  we  were  %  " 
asked  Lois. 

"  I  saw  a  piece  of  Millie's  dress,  and  I  knew 


232 

of  course  you  two'd  be  together.  But  now, 
where's  that  long-legged  Ralph,  I  wonder  ?  " 

Every  one  looked  wise  and  important,  as  if 
nothing  would  induce  him  to  tell.  Teddy 
pried  about,  making  longer  and  longer  sallies 
from  his  post,  trying  to  have  eyes  all  over  his 
head  at  once.  The  girls  tittered  and  looked 
down  the  bay  towards  the  cow  stable.  Teddy 
ventured  a  little  farther  that  way,  when  lo ! 
Ralph  swung  himself  down  plump  from  the 
scaffolding  overhead,  and  with  long  strides 
made  the  goal  before  Teddy  could  by  any 
means  get  there. 

Now  it  was  Millie's  turn  to  be  "  it."  Millie 
resolved  to  be  very  sharp,  and  not  let  the  boys 
outwit  her.  She  kept  close  by  the  post,  rec- 
onnoitering  the  barn  in  all  directions  for  some 
signs  of  the  enemy.  What  was  that  small 
bunch  projecting  from  the  big  beam  over- 
head 1  Was  it  a  knot,  or  a  swallow's  nest,  or 
what  was  it? 

She  tiptoed  cautiously  out  for  a  better  view. 
Ha!    it   moved,    it   was    the    toe  of  a  boot. 


233 

Whose  boot,  was  now  the  question.  If  she 
called  the  wrong  name,  she  would  lose  all  the 
benefit  of  the  discovery.  It  must  be  Ralph 
or  Roy.  Teddy  couldn't  get  up  there.  As 
she  watched,  an  incautious  elbow  was  also 
projected.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  patch 
on  that  elbow. 

"  Touch  the  goal  for  Roy  Whittaker !  " 
shouted  Millie. 

"  It  isn't  fair.  You  didn't  see  me,"  said  Roy, 
thrusting  his  head  over  the  beam. 

"  I  did,  too.  You  stuck  over  so  I  couldn't 
help  it." 

"  I  kept  telling  you  she'd  see  us,  if  you 
didn't  lie  stiller,"-  said  a  smothered  voice  from 
the  beam. 

"  Touch  the  goal  for  Ralph,"  cried  Millie. 

Ralph  and  Roy  climbed  down,  much  dissat- 
isfied with  each  other.  Ralph  said  Roy  wrig- 
gled about  like  an  eel,  and  spoilt  all  their  fun ; 
and  Roy  said  of  course  such  an  old  spindle- 
shanks  as  Ralph  could  hide  behind  a  half-foot 
beam  easy  enough.     There  might  have  been 


234 

a  serious  quarrel,  but  just  then  loud  cries  were 
heard  from  Tom's  manger. 

"  Oh,  come  here  !  Come  quick  !  "  said  the 
voice  in  tones  of  distress. 

Lois  had  hid  in  Tom's  manger,  and,  being 
covered  with  hay,  Tom,  in  taking  some  hay, 
had  helped  himself  to  a  mouthful  of  Lois's  hair. 
This  he  was  proceeding  to  munch.  The  boys 
went  to  the  rescue.  Lois  was  soon  released, 
half  laughing,  half  frightened. 

When  Roy  began  to  count,  Millie  whispered 
to  Lois  and  Teddy,  — 

"  I've  thought  of  a  first-rate  place  for  us 
three,  where  Roy  won't  think  of  looking,  I 
know.     Let's  all  hide  in  the  grain  bin." 

The  grain  bin  was  only  partly  filled  with 
oats.  By  climbing  upon  the  half-bushel 
measure,  then  upon  a  barrel,  they  reached  the 
top.  Then  it  was  easy  enough  to  hop  in. 
Millie  dropped  the  cover  carefully  down  after 
her  as  she  jumped  in,  and  there  the  three 
were  as  snug  as  possible. 

It   was   great   fun   to   hear   Roy  prowling 


285 

about  outside,  wondering  where  they  could 
be.  Meanwhile  they  were  sitting  inside  on 
the  oats,  nudging  each  other,  and  holding 
their  mouths  to  keep  from  giggling  aloud. 

By  and  by  Roy  thought  of  the  grain  bin, 
and  lifted  the  cover.  Three  jolly  faces,  red 
with  laughter,  greeted  his  eyes.  He  dropped 
the  cover  and  ran  to  touch  the  goal.  Loud 
cries  were  now  heard  from  the  grain  bin. 

"■Roy!  Roy!  Come  and  help  us!  We 
can't  get  the  cover  up." 

Roy  went  back. 

"  Well,  you  are  in  a  nice  fix  !  I  don't  see 
how  you'll  ever  get  out  of  here.  I  don't 
believe  you  ever  can." 

After  teasing  them  awhile,  Roy  went  to 
work,  with  Ralph's  help,  to  get  them  out. 
But  the  slippery  oats  slid  and  gave  way, 
and  filled  their  shoes  full.  The  more  they 
struggled  to  get  out,  the  deeper  they  sank. 

Finally  Ralph  and  Roy  went  to  tell  mother. 
Millie,  Lois,  and  Teddy  sat  down  on  the 
oats,  looking  rather  sober. 


236 

"  We  shouldn't  starve  to  death,  if  we  had 
to  stay  here  all  night,"  said  Teddy,  "  because 
we  could  eat  oats  like  the  horses." 

They  all  tried  the  oats  and  found  them  a 
prickly,  tasteless  food,  decidedly  inferior  even 
to  plain  bread  and  butter. 

"  Prisoners  feel  just  as  we  do  now,"  said 
Millie.     "  Let's  play  we  are   prisoners." 

"Play  we're  put  in  here  because  we're  so 
good,  like  the  martyrs  in  grandma's  book," 
said  Lois. 

Millie  and  Teddy  were  both  agreeably 
struck  with  the  idea. 

"  How  do  folks  act  when  they're  so  good  %  " 
asked  Lois.     "  I  don't  know  how  to  begin." 

"  Oh,  you  must  look  like  this,"  said  Millie, 
drawing  down  the  corners  of  her  mouth  and 
raising  her  eyebrows.  "  Of  course  we  feel 
dreadful  to  be  treated  so,  just  because  we're 
so  good.     Now  we  must  all  sigh." 

They  all  heaved  a  loud  sigh.  Then  they 
burst  out  laughing,  for  their  faces  were  so 
comical  with  this  new  expression. 


237 

"  I  suppose  they'll  come  and  take  us  out, 
to  saw  us  in  two,  to-morrow,"  observed 
Teddy. 

"  Oh  Teddy,  don't  talk  so  !  You  make  me 
scrooge  all  over,"  said  Lois. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  be  afraid.  I  shall  fight 
them  all,  and  take  you  and  Millie  right  on  my 
horse,  and  ride  right  away  with  you  through 
the  middle  of  them." 

Here  footsteps  were  heard,  and  soon  Aaron, 
the  hired  man,  looked  over  into  the  t>1n. 

•  "  Hello ! "  said  Aaron  ;  "  there  are  the  biggest 
rats  I  ever  caught  in  my  grain  bin." 

Aaron  put  the  half-bushel  measure  in  for 
them  to  stand  on.  Then  he  took  them,  one 
by  one,  in  his  strong  hands,  and  swung  them 
out  upon  the  floor. 

The  young  martyrs  scampered  off  for  the 
house,  quite  satisfied  with  even  this  short 
experience  of  prison  life. 

—  Mary  Prudence  Wells  Smith. 


238 


APOLLO   AND   HYACINTHUS 


A  pol'lo 

hy'a  cinth 

op  por  tu'ni  ty 

dis'cus 

Hy  a  cinth'us 

quoits 

es  pe'cial 

marvel  ous 

stanch 

jeal'ous 

mero  dy 

Zeph'y  rus 

Apollo  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
Greek  gods.     He  had  fair  curling  hair  and 

large  blue  eyes. 
He  was  also  very 
strong.  He  was 
a  famous  hunter, 
for  no  one  could 
shoot  arrows 
so  far  and  so 
straight. 

Apollo   was 

also  a  wonderful 

musician.       He 

played  on  a  lyre, 

apoI1°-  which  is  a  kind 

of  harp.      Even  the  gods  themselves  would 

stop  work  or  play  to  listen  to  Apollo's  music. 


239 

Apollo  had  one  dear  friend  named  Hya- 
cinthus. Hyacinthus  was  a  youth  who  loved 
all  manly  sports.  Apollo  spent  most  of  his 
days  with  his  friend. 

When  Hyacinthus  hunted  on  the  moun- 
tains, Apollo  led  the  dogs  to  the  chase. 
When  Hyacinthus  fished  in  the  deep  lake, 
Apollo  tended  the  lines  and  hauled  the  nets. 
Always,  the  sport  was  good  when  Apollo  was 
with  Hyacinthus. 

In  the  cool  of  evening,  after  the  day  of  toil, 
Apollo  would  take  his  lyre  and  play  to  his 
friend. 

Hyacinthus  loved  all  Apollo's  music,  but  one 
melody  he  loved  especially.  It  was  a  song 
that  was  sad  but  very  sweet.     It  had  no  words. 

"  Why  has  that  song  no  words,  Apollo  ?  " 
asked  Hyacinthus. 

"  I  cannot  tell.  Words  fail  me  when  I  try 
to  fit  them  to  this  song,  Hyacinthus,"  Apollo 
answered. 

"  Some  day  you  will  find  words  I  " 

And  Apollo  answered,  "  Some  day." 


240 

These  two  friends  had  one  enemy  and  they 
knew  it  not.  This  was  Zephyrus,  the  west 
wind.  He  had  loved  Hyacinthus  and  had 
longed  to  be  his  dearest  friend.  But  Hya- 
cinthus loved  Apollo  best. 

Zephyrus  became  very  jealous.  He  re- 
solved to  put  an  end  to  this  friendship  which 
angered  him  so  greatly.  And  one  day  his 
opportunity  came. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon.  Apollo  and 
Hyacinthus  were  resting  after  a  ramble  in  the 
hills.  Suddenly  Apollo  sprang  to  his  feet. 
"  I  am  for  quoits,"  he  cried ;  and  seizing  the 
discus  he  threw  it  high  and  far. 

Hyacinthus  ran  to  seize  it,  eager  to  show 
his  strength  and  skill. 

This  was  the  chance  that  the  evil  Zephyrus 
had  sought.  He  breathed  upon  the  falling 
quoit,  and  the  huge  stone  bounded  aside  and 
struck  Hyacinthus  a  blow  on  the  temple. 

The  poor  youth  fell  to  the  ground. 

Apollo,  pale  as  Hyacinthus  himself,  has- 
tened to  the  side  of  his   friend.     He    raised 


241 

him  in  his  arms,  he  tried  to  stanch  the 
wound,  but  all  was  in  vain.  The  head  of  the 
beautiful  lad  fell  weakly  over  on  the  shoulder 
of  the  god. 

"  Hyacinthus,"  cried  Apollo,  "  thou  art  dy- 
ing, and  I  am  the  cause.  Would  that  I  could 
die  for  thee !  " 

"Hyacinthus,"  cried  Apollo  again,  "thou 
shalt  not  die  in  memorv,  for  I  have  now  the 
words  of  thy  favorite  song.  Grief  has  taught 
them  to  me." 

And  Hyacinthus  smiled  as  he  died. 

As  Apollo  gazed  at  his  friend,  he  said, 
"  Thou  shalt  become  a  flower  !  "  And  lo  !  the 
blood  of  Hyacinthus  was  changed  to  a  tall 
and  lily-like  flower   of  deepest  crimson. 

On  its  petals  Apollo  wrote,  so  that  all 
might  read,  "  Ah !  ah !  "  And  these  words  of 
mourning  we  read  on  the  hyacinth  to  this  day. 

But  the  wonderful  melody  with  the  still 
more  marvelous  words  is  sung  no  more  on  the 
earth.  Mortals  hear  that  now  in  their  hearts 
only  as  grief  draws  near.  —  Fanny  e.  Coe. 

coe's  third  r.  — 16 


242 
THE   WONDERFUL   RIDE   OF   PHAETON 

char'i  ot       dis  as'ter       per  sist'ed       Ju'pi  ter 
Nep'tune      Pha'e  ton     dif  fi  cult         pal' ace 

Apollo  was  not  only  god  of  music  and  of  the 
chase ;  he  was  also  god  of  the  sun.  Every 
day,  he  rode  through  the  sky  in  his  golden 
chariot  drawn  by  fiery  horses.  On  his  head 
was  a  crown  from  which  shot  dazzling  rays 
of  light. 

Each  morning,  Apollo  left  the  great  sun 
palace  in  India  to  set  out  on  his  daily  journey. 
Each  evening  he  watered  his  weary  steeds  in 
the  western  ocean. 

Apollo  had  a  son  named  Phaeton.  One  day 
Phaeton  had  pleased  his  father  by  a  bold  deed. 
Apollo  said,  "  My  son,  I  am  pleased  with  you. 
Ask  anything,  and  I  will  grant  it." 

"  Let  me  drive  your  chariot  for  one  day,  ray 
father,"  cried  Phaeton. 

"  My  son,  I  dare  not  grant  your  request. 
It  would  be  too  dangerous.  The  road  is  steep 
and  difficult;  the  horses  are  quite  untamed; 


243 

even  I,  at  times,  grow  fearful.  What  would 
become  of  you,  a  mortal  1  You  would  grow 
dizzy  and  fall." 

But  Phaeton  persisted.  "  My  father,  you 
promised.  I  am  not  afraid  for  my  life. 
Surely  your  son  should  be  able  to  guide  the 
car  of  day." 

Finally  Apollo  yielded  with  a  sigh.  He 
ordered  the  radiant  Hours  to  harness  the 
horses  ;  he  set  the  sun  crown  upon  the  head 
of  Phaeton,    and  flung  wide  the  palace  door. 

Before  them  stretched  the  wide  tracts  of  sky 
in  which  the  glorious  stars  were  already  pal- 
ing. Phaeton  gathered  up  the  reins  and  took 
the  whip  in  his  hand. 

"  One  last  word,  Phaeton,  since  go  you  will. 
Do  not  use  the  whip.  The  horses  speed  of 
themselves.  Only  hold  fast  the  reins  and 
follow  the  wheel  tracks.  Do  not  go  too  high, 
or  you  will  burn  the  heavenly  palaces.  Do 
not  go  too  low,  or  the  earth  herself  may  take 
fire.  Keep  a  middle  course.  That  is  safest 
and  best.     Farewell !  " 


245 

The  horses  sprang  forward.  With  a  shout 
of  triumph,  Phaeton  began  his  ride. 

The  horses  soon  found,  however,  that  they 
had  an  unskillful  driver.  They  left  the  road 
and  galloped  more  and  more  wildly.  The 
chariot  rocked  and  bounded  from  side  to  side. 
Phaeton  now  could  scarcely  cling  to  the  reins. 
To  look  down  upon  the  far-away  earth  made 
him  so  dizzy  that  he  feared  to  fall. 

But  worse  was  to  come.  The  horses  had 
gone  so  far  from  their  usual  track  that  the  sky 
was  now  aflame.  The  clouds  were  smoking, 
and  soon  the  great  earth  herself  caught  fire. 

Harvests  withered ;  cities  perished  ;  thou- 
sands of  people  were  burned  to  ashes.  Surely 
there  had  come  a  sad  and  terrible  day ! 

"  0  Father  Jupiter,"  cried  Mother  Earth, 
"  come  quickly  to  our  aid  !  " 

Father  Neptune,  god  of  the  sea,  raised  his 
head  from  the  seething  billows  and  cried,  "  0 
Father  Jupiter,  come  quickly  to  our  aid !  " 

Jupiter  mounted  his  lofty  tower  and  gazed 
on  the  wide  scene  of  disaster.     "  There  is  but 


246 

one  thing  to  do,"  he  said;  and  he  raised  his 
terrible  right  arm. 

From  it  he  cast  a  thunderbolt  straight  at 
the  foolhardy  Phaeton.  The  lad  fell  like  a 
shooting  star  down  to  earth.  He  lost  his  life, 
but  the  world  was  saved.  —  Fanny  e.  Coe. 


THE   DUCK   AND   THE   KANGAROO 
Kan  ga  roo'  ob  jec'tion  re  flec'tion 

Said  the  Duck  to  the  Kangaroo, 

"  Good  gracious  !  how  you  hop 
Over  the  fields  and  the  water  too, 

As  if  you  would  never  stop ! 
My  life  is  a  bore  in  this  nasty  pond ; 
And  I  long  to  go  out  in  the  world  beyond : 

I  wish  I  could  hop  like  you," 

Said  the  Duck  to  the  Kangaroo. 

"  Please  give  me  a  ride  on  your  back," 
Said  the  Duck  to  the  Kangaroo  : 

"  I  would  sit  quite  still,  and  say  nothing  but 
1  Quack  ' 
The  whole  of  the  long  day  through  ; 


247 


And  we'd  go  to  the  Dee,  and  the  Jelly  Bo  Lee, 

Over  the  land  and  over  the  sea  : 
Please  take  me  a  ride  !     Oh,  do  !  " 
Said  the  Duck  to  the  Kangaroo. 


Said  the  Kangaroo  to  the  Duck, 

"  This  requires  some  little  reflection. 

Perhaps,    on  the   whole,  it  might   bring    me 
luck: 
And  there  seems  but  one  objection; 


248 

Which  is,  if  you'll  let  me  speak  so  bold, 
Your  feet  are  unpleasantly  wet  and  cold, 

And  would  probably  give  me  the  roo- 

i 

Matiz,"  said  the  Kangaroo. 

Said  the  Duck,  "  As  I  sate  on  the  rocks, 

I  have  thought  over  that  completely ; 
And  I  bought  four  pairs  of  worsted  socks, 

Which  fit  my  webfeet  neatly ; 
And,  to  keep  out  the  cold,  I've  bought  a  cloak  ; 
And  every  day  a  cigar  I'll  smoke ; 

All  to  follow  my  own  dear  true 

Love  of  a  Kangaroo." 

Said  the  Kangaroo,  "  I'm  ready 

All  in  the  moonlight  pale ; 
And  to  balance  me  well,  dear  Duck,  sit  steady, 

And  quite  at  the  end  of  my  tail." 
So  away  they  went  with  a  hop  and  a  bound  ; 
And  they  hopped  the  whole  world  three  times 
round. 

And  who  so  happy,  oh !  who, 

As  the  Duck  and  the  Kangaroo  ? 

—  Edward  Lear. 


249 

THE   STORY    OF   GOLGORONDO 

buf  fa  lo  rhyme  con  trived' 

doubt'ful  ly  cup'board  crev'ice 

Mal'le  ville  pro  vi'ded  droll'er  y 

Gol  go  ron'do  or'na  ment  ed  Phon'ny 

[Malleville  is  a  little  girl  from  New  York  who  is  spending 
the  winter  with  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Henry.  Beechnut  is  a  boy 
about  fourteen  who  is  hired  to  do  work  at  Mrs.  Henry's. 
Beechnut  tells  stories  well.] 

One  bright  winter  day  Malleville  came 
into  the  shed  to  watch  Beechnut  chop  wood. 
Beechnut  was  glad  to  have  her  company. 
He  threw  a  buffalo  robe  over  some  smooth 
logs  at  one  end  of  the  wood  pile.  This  made 
a  comfortable  seat  for  Malleville. 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  a  story,  Beech- 
nut," said  Malleville.  So  Beechnut  began  as 
follows  :  — 

"  Once  there  was  a  giant,"  said  Beechnut, 
"  a  great  ugly  giant,  with  a  terrible  face  and 
a  large  black  club.     He  lived  in  a  den." 

"  But    I  don't  want  to  hear  such  a  story 


250 


as  that,"  ssLid   Malleville.     "I   don't   like   to 
hear  about  giants,  it  frightens  me  so  much." 
"  Oh,  this  story  won't  frighten  you.     This 
was  a  good  giant." 


"  But  you  said  he  was  ugly,"  replied 
Malleville. 

"  He  looked  ugly,"  said  Beechnut,  "  that 
was  all.     I  said  he  looked  ugly." 

"What  was  his  name?" 

"His  name,"  said  Beechnut,  "his  name  — 
why,  his  name  was  —  (Jolgorondo." 


251 

"  I  don't  believe  he  was  good,"  said  Malle- 
ville,  shaking  her  head  doubtfully. 

"  He  was,  truly,"  said  Beechnut,  turning 
round  and  looking  at  Malleville  very  ear- 
nestly.    "  He  was  a  very  good  giant,  indeed." 

"  Then  what  did  he  want  of  the  great 
black  club?"  said  Malleville. 

"  Why,  it  only  looked  like  a  club.  It 
was  hollow,  and  there  was  something  in- 
side. He  could  unscrew  the  handle,  and 
draw  it  out  like  a  sword  out  of  a  sword  cane." 

"What  was  it  inside?" 

"  It  was  a  long  and  beautiful  feather." 

"  One  day  old  Golgorondo  was  sitting  at 
the  mouth  of  his  den,  sick  of'  a  fever,  and 
very  thirsty.  A  boy  came  along  with  a  red 
cap  on  his  head. 

" '  Red  Cap,  Red  Cap/  said  Golgorondo, 
6  I'm  feverish  and  thirsty ;  I  wish  you  would 
take  this  mug  and  go  down  to  the  spring 
and  bring  me  a  mug  of  cool  water.' 

"  *I  can't  go  now  very  well,'  said  Red  Cap. 
1  I  want  to  go  and  play.' 


252 

"  '  Very  well,  run  along/  said  Golgorondo. 

"Presently  a  girl  came  by  with  a  green 
ribbon  on  her  bonnet. 

" '  Green  Eibbon,  Green  Ribbon/  said  Gol- 
gorondo, 'I'm  feverish. and  thirsty;  take  this 
mug  down  to  the  spring  and  get  me  a  drink 
of  good  cool  water/ 

" '  I'm  afraid  of  you/  said  Green  Ribbon, 
'  you  look  so  ugly.     I'm  going  to  run  away.' 

" '  Well,  run  along/  said  Golgorondo. 

"  Pretty  soon  after  that  another  boy  came 
by,  with  a  blue  cap  on  his  head. 

"  '  Blue  Cap,  Blue  Cap/  said  Golgorondo, 
1  I'm  feverish  and  thirsty ;  take  this  mug  and 
go  down  to  the  spring  and  bring  me  a  drink 
of  good  cool  water.' 

"  '  Yes/  said  Blue  Cap,  <  I  will.' 

"  So  Blue  Cap  took  the  mug  and  went 
down  to  the  spring  and  brought  the  giant 
back  a  mugful  of  water.  When  he  had 
drunk  it  all,  Blue  Cap  asked  him  if  he 
wanted  any  more. 

" '  One  mugful  more/  said  Golgorondo. 


253 

"So  Blue  Cap  went  down  and  brought  up 
one  mugful  more.  Then  Golgorondo  said, 
'  Now  I  shall  get  well  to-night ;  come  and 
see  me  to-morrow,  and  I  will  reward  you  for 
going  to  the  spring  and  bringing  me  the 
mugs  of  water.'  " 

"And  did  he  get  well?"  asked  Malle- 
ville. 

"Yes,  and  the  next  day  Blue  Cap  came 
again." 

"  And  what  did  the  giant  give  him  ?  " 

"  A  magic  bowl,"  said  Beechnut,  "  a  magic 
silver  bowl.  He  went  into  his  den  and  un- 
locked an  iron  door  built  into  the  rocks  in 
the  side  of  his  den.  It  opened  into  a  sort 
of  cupboard,  or  closet,  which  was  full  of 
treasures.  He  took  out  a  beautiful  silver 
bowl.  It  had  a  sort  of  saucer  under  it,  and 
a  cover  upon  the  top,  and  it  was  ornamented 
on  all  sides  with  beautiful  figures,  cut  in  the 
silver.  The  knob  of  the  cover,  which  was 
used  as  a  handle  for  taking  the  cover  off, 
was  the  figure  of  a  beautiful    dog.     A  little 


254 

below,  upon  the  side  of  the  cover,  was  the 
figure  of  a  hunter  and  a  hare. 

"  The  giant  told  Blue  Cap  that  the  charm 
of  the  bowl  was  in  the  hunter  and  the  hare. 
By  means  of  the  bowl  he  could  have  any- 
thing he  wanted  that  was  good  to  eat,  pro- 
vided £hat  he  was  a  good  poet. 

"The  way  was  to  shut  up  the  bowl  and 
take  it  in  his  lap,  and  then  say  something 
about  the  hunter  and  the  hare  for  one  line, 
and  make  up  another  to  rhyme  with  it,  ask- 
ing for  whatever  he  wanted. 

"  For  example,  he  might  say:  — 

"  c  Silver  hunter  hunting  the  hare, 

Open  your  goblet  and  give  me  a  pear.' 

"  And  then,  on  opening  the  bowl,  he  would 
find  the  pear  within." 

"  And  would  he  truly?"  asked  Malleville. 

"  Yes,"  said  Beechnut.  "  Blue  Cap  took 
the  bowl,  put  it   in  his  lap  and  said  :  — 

" i  Silver  hunter,  silver  hare, 
Give  me,  if  you  please,  a  pear.' 


255 

"  Blue  Cap  opened  the  bowl,  and  there 
he  found  inside  a  large,  ripe,  mellow,  and 
juicy  pear.  All  this  time  the  giant  was  sit- 
ting by  the  side  of  his  den." 

"  I  should  like  such  a  bowl,"  said  Malle- 
ville. 

"  Blue  Cap  ate  his  pear,  and  then  he  wanted 
another ;  so  he  put  on  the  cover  of  the  bowl 
and  said  again  :  — 

"  6  Silver  hunter,  silver  hare, 
I  want  a  sweet  and  juicy  pear.' 

"  Then  he  opened  the  bowl,  but  there 
was  nothing  in  it. 

"  '  That  won't  do,'  said  Golgorondo.  '  The 
same  poetry  will  not  answer  twice  the  same 
day ;  you  must  make  some  new  lines.' 

"  So  Blue  Cap  thought  a  minute,  and  then 
he  said :  — 

"  4  Silver  hunter,  silver  hare, 

Bring  me  an  apple  and  a  pear.' " 

"  And  did  he  get  an  apple  and  a  pear  ?  " 
asked  Malleville. 

"  Yes,"  said  Beechnut ;  "  only  the  pear  was 


256 

not  quite   so  large  as  the   other  one.     Blue 

Cap  put  the  apple  and  the  pear  in  his  pocket, 

and    thanked    the    giant    for    his   bowl.      He 

then  went  away,  carrying  the  bowl  under  his 

arm. 

"  When  he  got  home,  he  showed  his  bowl 

to  his  sister,  and  they  tried  to  make  some  new 

lines,  but  they  found  it  very  hard.     At  last 

they  thought  of  this  :  — 

"  ■  Silver  hunter,  climbing  high, 
Give  me  a  piece  of  apple  pie.' " 

"  And  did  they  get  a  piece  of  apple  pie  %  " 
asked  Malleville. 

"  A  whole  one,"  said  Beechnut.  "  There 
was  a  whole  pie,  as  large  as  would  go  into  the 
bowl,  with  beautiful  figures  of  dogs,  horses, 
and  huntsmen  on  the  crust." 

"  Oh,  what  a  good  bowl,"  said  Malleville. 
"  I  wish  I  had  such  a  bowl.  The  first  thing 
I  would  ask  for  would  be  for  a  good  large 
apple  to  roast." 

"  Why,  I've  got  magic  enough  to  get  you 
an  apple  to  roast,"  said  Beechnut. 


257 

So  he  came  to  the  wood  pile  where  Malle- 
ville  was  sitting  and  kneeled  down. 

"I'll  get  you  an  apple,"  said  he,  "from 
under  this  log." 

So  he  covered  over  the  end  of  the  log  with 
the  bearskin  very  carefully,  and  then  directed 
Malleville  to  put  her  two  fingers  together 
upon  her  knee  and  to  watch  them  carefully, 
while  he  spoke  the  magic  words. 

So  Malleville  watched  her  fingers  very 
closely,  while  Beechnut  repeated  these  lines 
in  a  measured  way,  half  singing  and  half 
speaking  :  — 

"  Under  the  end  of  the  beechnut  tree, 
Malleville,  Malleville,  peep  and  see, 
One  for  you  and  none  for  me, 
Bobolink,  bobolink,  pee-dee-dee." 

Then  he  lifted  up  the  bearskin  a  little  and 
let  Malleville  peep  in.  There  she  saw  a  fine 
large  russet  apple  lying  on  the  chips. 

Beechnut  had  had  this  apple  in  his  pocket. 
While  Malleville  was  watching  the  ends  of 
her  fingers,  he  had  contrived  to  reach  his  arm 

coe's  third  r. —  17 


258 

back  into  the  wood  pile  and  drop  the  apple 
through  a  crevice.  Thence  it  rolled  down  to 
the  place  under  the  end  of  the  log  where 
Malleville  found  it. 

Beechnut  told  Malleville  that  she  must  not 
eat  the  apple,  but  must  keep  it  to  roast  when 
she  went  into  the  house. 

That  night  Malleville  began  to  tell  her 
cousin  Phonny  the  story  of  Golgorondo  and 
the  bowl,  as  they  were  going  upstairs  to  bed. 
They  stopped  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  to  fin- 
ish the  story. 

Malleville  could  not  remember  the  poetry 
very  well.  She  said  that  the  first  line  was 
silver  huntsman,  silver  rabbit,  but  she  could 
not  remember  the  rest. 

Phonny  said  he  guessed  it  was  this  :  — 

"  Silver  huntsman,  silver  rabbit, 
Give  me  an  apple  and  I'll  grab  it." 

The  children  laughed  loud  and  long  at  the 
drollery,  and  then  went  to  their  rooms. 

—  Jacob  Abbott. 


HOW   M 

si  le'sia 

Pris  cil'la 

^xil    lie*  *^ 

re  mem'brance 

fas  v,- 

ab  sorbed' 

ex  changed' 

ir  reg'u  lar 

Es'ter  ha  zy 

Fletch'er 

[Mollie  and  Priscilla  were  two  little  cousins.  They  had 
been  spending  a  week  together  at  their  grandmother's. 

When  Mollie  was  going  home,  the  two  little  girls  exchanged 
dimes.     Each  wished  to  have  a  remembrance  of  the  other.] 

Molly  meant  to  keep  Priscilla's  ten  cents 
always,  but  she  had  not  been  at  home  many 
davs  before  she  received  a  letter  from  her 
cousin  that  changed  her  plans.  Molly's 
mamma  read  it  aloud. 

"  Dear  Molly,  —  I  miss  you  very,  very 
much.  I  cried  the  day  you  went,  for  it  was 
so  lonely.  I  have  spent  your  ten  cents.  I 
meant  to  get  pink  and  blue  and  yellow  tissue 
paper,  but  the  Fourth  of  July  came  and  I  got 
firecrackers  instead.     They  are  all  gone  now, 


ley  made 

iber  me  by 

.*^  x  ^nt  your  ten 

cents,  I  want\  .  mine,  and  then  we 

shall   be  even.     My  birthday  is  the  8th  of 

July.     I  wish  you  were  my  sister. 

"  Your  loving  cousin, 

"Priscilla  Drayton." 

"  It  is  the  8th  of  July  to-day,  Molly  dear," 
said  Mrs.  Benson. 

"Then  I  think  I  had  better  go  and  look 
around  in  the  shops." 

"  You  will  find  a  great  variety  of  things  at 
Fletcher's,"  said  her  mamma ;  "  and  if  you 
like,  you  may  go  there  all  by  yourself  like  a 
grown-up  person." 

This  pleased  Molly,  and  she  put  on  her 
brown  hat  and  started  out  with  a  little  shop- 
ping bag  that  her  Aunt  Ruth  had  given  her 
at  Christmas.  Her  small  purse  was  in  the 
bottom  holding  her  ten-cent  piece.     Just  as 


261 

she  reached  the  gate,  she  saw  Julia  Esterhazy 
coming  out  of  the  big  white  house  across  the 
way. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Molly  ? "  Julia 
asked.  "  I  was  coming  over  to  play  with 
you." 

"I  am  going  down  town  shopping,"  said 
Molly. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  buy  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"You  don't  know  what  you  are- going  to 
buy?" 

"  It  may  be  tissue  paper,  or  it  may  be 
paper  dolls'  furniture,  or  it  may  be  a  new 
dress  for  Sylvia  or  Jane,  but  whatever  it  is, 
it  must  cost  just  ten  cents."  Then  Molly 
told  Julia  the  story  of  the  exchange  of  the 
dimes. 

"  I  should  get  candy  if  it  were  mine,"  said 
Julia,  "  and  then  you  could  give  me  some." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  eat  up  my  lovely 
present,"  said  Molly. 

It  was  a  warm  day,  and  the  two  little  girls 


262 

were  glad  to  get  under  shelter  away  from  the 
hot  sun. 

Fletcher's  was  a  very  delightful  shop.  It 
had  almost  everything  in  it  that  any  •  one 
could  want.  In  fact,  it  was  so  full  of  charm- 
ing things  that  it  was  hard  to  make  a 
choice. 

Molly's  eyes  were  first  fascinated  by  a  card 
full  of  paper-doll  children,  and  their  pretty 
blue,  red,  and  white  dresses.  There  was  a 
back  and  a  front  view  of  each  little  girl,  to  be 
cut  out  and  pasted  together  so  as  to  make  a 
complete  person.  There  were  also  on  the 
same  card  a  tennis  racket  and  a  hoop  and  a 
dear  little  doll  in  a  doll's  carriage  for  the 
paper-doll  children  to  play  with,  and  a  shop- 
ping bag  and  a  green  watering  pot.  Molly 
was  afraid  that  these  children  and  their  outfit 
would  cost  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  that 
she  could  not  afford  to  buy  them. 

"  How  much  are  they  ? "  she  shyly  asked 
the  man  behind  the  counter. 

"  Twelve  cents  and  a  half  a  card.     They 


263 

are  cheap  for  that,  for  they  came  from 
Germany.  Do  you  want  one  of  these 
cards  %  " 

Molly  shook  her  head.  "  I  only  have  ten 
cents,"  she  answered  with  a  sigh. 

"  I  would  call  it  ten  cents,  seeing  that  it  is 
you,"  he  said. 

He  was  a  pleasant  man,  with  kind,  gray 
eyes.  "  Ten  cents  is  dirt  cheap  for  two  chil- 
dren and  their  entire  wardrobe,  not  to  men- 
tion playthings,"  he  added. 

"Yes,  it  is  very  cheap,"  said  Molly. 

Julia,  meanwhile,  had  discovered  some 
paper-doll  furniture.  One  card  was  full  of 
kitchen  things,  and  another  was  devoted  to 
parlor  furniture,  while  a  third  displayed  a 
bedroom  set. 

"  How  perfectly  beautiful !  "  Molly  said,  as 
she  looked  at  the  little  brown  bureau  with  its 
white-and-red  bureau  cover  and  the  red  pin- 
cushion full  of  pins. 

"  What  a  dear  little  rug !  "  said  Julia,  point- 
ing to  a  charming  brown  coonskin  rug. 


264 

"  And  look  at  the  towels  and  the  little 
towel  rack,"  said  Molly. 

"  And  the  bed  and  washstand  and  the 
pretty  blue  screen,"  added  Julia. 

"  See  the  brown  chairs  and  the  dear  little 
brown  clock.  What  fun  it  would  be  to  cut 
them  out,  Julia !  " 

"  Look  at  the  parlor  set,"  said  Julia.  "  See 
the  piano,  and  the  red  sofa  and  chairs,  and 
the  tall  piano  lamp  with  its  red  shade." 

"  The  kitchen  is  a  dear  place,"  said  Molly. 
"  See  the  table  with  a  lobster  on  it  in  a  dish, 
and  the  sweet  little  cooking  stove,  and  the 
pretty  blue  dishes  in  the  cupboard;  they  all 
look  so  real." 

"  See  the  spice  box,"  said  Julia.  "  Pepper, 
nutmeg,  c-i-n-n-a-m-o-n,  cinnamon." 

"  Oh,  look  at  that  dear  pussy  cat  in  the 
kitchen !  "  said  Molly.  "  How  much  are  these 
cards  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Ten  cents  apiece." 

"  Only  ten  cents !  I  don't  know  which  I 
want  the  most." 


265 

"  I  should  choose  the  parlor  set,"  said 
Julia. 

"  I  like  the  kitchen  and  the  bedroom  set 
the  best,  because  we  could  have  the  most  fun 
with  them*" 

"  The  same  things  come  at  five  cents  a 
card  in  a  smaller  size,"  the  man  behind  the 
counter  stated. 

"  At  five  cents  a  card !  Then  I  can  have 
two  of  them,  Julia!  and  I  can  send  one  of 
them  to  Priscilla,  for  poor  Priscilla  'has  spent 
all  her  money  on  firecrackers,  and  hasn't 
anything  to  remember  me  by." 

"I  should  keep  them  both,"  said  Julia. 
"  If  she  chose  to  spend  her  money  on  fire- 
crackers, that  is  her  lookout.  We  could  have 
lots  more  fun  with  the  kitchen  and  parlor 
furniture,  too." 

"  Yes,  we  could,"  said  Molly.  "  I  must 
look  around  a  little  more  before  I  decide," 
she  added  prudently.  "  Oh,  Julia,  see  that 
pretty  pink  gingham  with  white  spots  on  it ! 
How  becoming  that  would  be  to  Sylvia!     It 


266 

takes  only  a  half  a  yard  for  her  clothes. 
How  much  is  it  for  half  a  yard  %  " 

"It  is  twenty-five  cents  a  yard,"  the  clerk 
replied. 

"  How  much  would  that  be  for  half  a  yard, 
Julia  V 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  We  don't  know  how  much  it  would  be 
for  half  a  yard,"  said  Molly,  appealingly. 

"  Well,  I'll  call  it  ten  cents." 

"  Ten  cents !  "  said  Molly.  She  was  almost 
sorry,  for  if  it  had  cost  more  she  could  not 
have  bought  it,  and  it  would  have  been  a 
little  easier  to  choose. 

"Look  at  this  sweet  doll,  Molly,"  said 
Julia,  from  the  other  end  of  the  shop.  "A 
tiny  doll  and  yet  so  prettily  dressed.  How 
much  is  it  %  " 

"  Ten  cents." 

"  Everything  is  ten  cents  in  this  store,"  said 
Molly,  in  despair.  "  I  can't  ever  decide  ;  but 
I  have  so  many  dolls  that  I  don't  really  need 
any  more." 


267 

"  Oh,  Moll)7,  see  this !  "  and  Julia  paused 
before  a  tall,  round  basket.  A  white  card 
hung  above  it,  and  on  this  card  was  printed 
in  large  black  letters  :  — 

children's  grab  basket 
5  Cents  a  Grab 

EACH   ARTICLE   FULLY   WORTH    7    CENTS 


Julia  pushed  up  the  cover  of  the  basket, 
and  she  and  Molly  peeped  in  over  the  top. 
There  were  flat  parcels  to  be  seen  and  three- 
cornered  parcels,  and  long  ones  and  square 
ones,  and  they  were  all  done  up  in  tissue 
paper.     There  was  something  very  interest- 


208 

ing  and  mysterious  about  the  grab  basket. 
Those  paper  packages  might  have  something 
in  them  even  rarer  and  more  beautiful  than 
the  paper-dolls,  or  the  furniture,  or  the  pink 
gingham. 

"  You  could  have  two  grabs  for  ten  cents," 
Julia  suggested.  "  You  could  grab  and  I 
could  grab,  and  I  could  give  you  my  grab." 

She  was  longing  to  know  the  contents  of  a 
certain  interesting  irregular  parcel. 

"  The  furniture  is  so  sweet,"  said  Molly, 
"  and  I  am  sure  I  want  it." 

"  The  paper-dolls  are  sweet,  too,"  said 
Julia. 

"  Yes,  and  so  is  the  pink  gingham.  I  shall 
have  to  grab  to  decide  it." 

Meanwhile  a  more  important  customer  had 
come  in  with  whom  the  clerk  was  absorbed, 
so  Molly  went  over  to  him  and  handed  him 
the  ten  cents. 

"  We  have  decided  to  have  two  grabs,  and 
here  is  the  money,"  she  said. 

"  All  right.     Did  you  say  you  would  have 


269 

silesia  or  percaline,  madam  %  "  he  asked,  turn- 
ing to  the  other  customer. 

"  You  grab  first/'  said  Julia. 

Molly  looked  from  the  flat  parcels  to  the 
three-cornered  ones  and  could  not  decide 
which  to  choose. 

"  I  think  I  will  shut  my  eyes,"  she  said, 
and  she  put  in  her  hand  at  random  and 
pulled  out  a  small,  flat  parcel.  She  opened 
it  eagerly,  and  took  out  a  block  of  black 
paper,  to  be  used  as  a  slate,  and  a  pencil  with 
which  to  write  on  it.  She  was  sadly  disap- 
pointed, and  felt  very  much  like  crying. 

"It  is  a  horrid  thing,"  said  Julia.  "We 
don't  want  a  paper  slate  when  you  have  got 
that  nice  blackboard.  You  were  very  silly  to 
shut  your  eyes.  I  shall  choose  with  my  eyes 
open.  I  am  going  to  take  that  queer  thing 
that  looks  as  if  it  might  be  a  doll." 

She  took  out  the  enticing-looking  package 
and  began  to  untie  the  string,  and  presently 
drew  forth  a  pink-and-white-and-green  china 
vase  of  a  hideous  shape.      It  was  too  large 


270 

for  dolls,  and  too  small  for  people,  and  too 
ugly  to  please  either. 

"  That  grab  bag  is  perfectly  horrid,"  said 
Julia. 

Molly  was  sure  that  she  had  never  been  so 
unhappy.  She  knew  now  that  it  was  too 
late,  that  she  wanted  the  paper-doll  furniture 
more  than  anything  in  the  whole  world. 
The  two  little  girls  were  very  sober  all  the 
way  home.  When  they  reached  Molly's  gate 
Julia  handed  over  the  vase. 

"  Take  the  old  thing,"  she  said.  "  You 
have  got  something  to  remember  Priscilla  by 
always  now,  and  you  can  send  the  paper 
slate  to  her." 

"  Well,  what  did  you  buy,  dear  1 "  her 
mamma  asked  cheerfully,  as  Molly  came  into 
the  parlor. 

The  little  girl  found  it  hard  to  keep  back 
her  tears.  Her  Aunt  Mary  and  her  brother 
Turner  were  sitting  there  too.  She  felt  that 
it  would  have  been  easier  to  confess  her  folly 
to  her  mother  alone. 


271 


She  held  up  the  vase  and  the  paper  block 
silently. 

"  The  block  was  a  sensible  choice,"  said  her 
mamma,  "but  I  don't  see  why  you  chose  the 


vase." 


"I  didn't  choose  either  of  them,"  Molly 
burst  out.     "  We  grabbed  and  we  got  them." 

"  In  short,  they  chose  you,"  said  Turner. 

Then  the  little  girl  told  the  whole  sad 
story.  "  I  did  want  the  paper-doll  furniture 
so  much,"  she  ended. 

"  Why  didn't  you  buy  it,  then  ?  "  asked  her 
aunt. 

"  Because  we  thought  it  would  be  more  fun 
to  grab." 

"  This  will  be  a  very  good  lesson  for  you, 
Molly,"  said  her  aunt.  "  It  is  never  well  to 
spend  money  unless  you  are  sure  what  you 
are  spending  it  for.  I  am  sorry  for  you,  but 
you  will  never  be  so  foolish  again." 

"  There  will  be  time  to  go  to  Fletcher's 
before  tea,"  said  Turner.  "  I  will  go  with 
you,   and  we  will   pretend   that   the  dime  I 


272 

have  was  Priseilla's  and  you  shall  choose 
what  you  want  all  over  again." 

Molly  danced  up  and  down  with  pleasure, 
and  she  and  Turner  went  to  Fletcher's  to- 
gether. This  time  she  made  her  choice  very 
quickly,  for  she  knew  just  what  she  wanted. 
She  bought  the  bedroom  set  and  the  kitchen 
furniture.  She  remembered  Julia's  words: 
"  I  should  keep  them  both.  If  Priscilla 
chose  to  spend  her  money  on  firecrackers, 
that  is  her  lookout." 

But  now  she  herself  had  spent  her  money 
foolishly.  If  Turner  had  thought  as  Julia 
did,  that  nobody  who  had  made  an  unwise 
investment  ought  to  have  anything  given  her, 
she  would  never  have  had  the  dear  paper-doll 
furniture.  So  she  kept  the  kitchen  set  and 
sent  the  bedroom  set  to  Priscilla. 

—  Eliza  Orne  White. 


273 


THE   PARABLE   OF   THE   PRODIGAL   SON 

And  he  said,  A  certain  man  had  two  sons  • 

And  the  younger  of  them  said  to  his  father, 
Father,  give  me  the  portion  of  goods  that 
falleth  to  me.  And  he  divided  unto  them 
his  living. 

And  not  many  days  after,  the  younger  son 
gathered  all  together,  and  took  his  journey 
into  a  far  country,  and  there  wasted  his  sub- 
stance with  riotous  living. 

And  when  he  had  spent  all,  there  arose  a 
mighty  famine  in  that  land;  and  he  began 
to  be  in  want. 

And  he  went  and  joined  himself  to  a  citi- 
zen of  that  country ;  and  he  sent  him  into 
his  fields  to  feed  swine. 

And  he  would  fain  have  filled  his  belly 
with  the  husks  that  the  swine  did  eat :  and 
no  man  gave  unto  him. 

And  when  he  came  to  himself,  he  said,  How 
many  hired  servants  of  my  father's  have  bread 
enough  and  to  spare,  and  I  perish  with  hunger ! 

coe's  third  r.  — 18 


ttT4) 


The  Prodigal  Son. 


275 

I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father,  and  will 
say  unto  him,  Father,  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven,  and  before  thee, 

And  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy 
son :  make  me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants. 

And  he  arose,  and  came  to  his  father. 
But  when  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off,  his 
father  saw  him,  and  had  compassion,  and 
ran,  and  fell    on   his  neck,  and   kissed   him. 

And  the  son  said  unto  him,  Father,  I  have 
sinned  against  heaven,  and  in  thy  sight,  and 
am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son. 

But  the  father  said  to  his  servants,  Bring 
forth  the  best  robe,  and  put  it  on  him ;  and 
put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and  shoes  on  his  feet. 

And  bring  hither  the  fatted  calf,  and  kill  it ; 
and  let  us  eat,  and  be  merry: 

For  this  my  son  was  dead,  and  is  alive 
again ;  he  was  lost,  and  is  found.  And  they 
began  to  be  merry. 

—  The   Bible. 


276 


A   CHILD'S   THOUGHT   OF   GOD 

They  say  that  God  lives  very  high ! 
But  if  you  look  above  the  pines, 
You  cannot  see  our  God.     And  why  ? 

And  if  you  dig  down  in  the  mines, 
You  never  see  Him  in  the  gold, 
Though  from  Him  all  that's  glory  shines. 

God  is  so  good,  He  wears  a  fold 

Of  heaven  and  earth  across  His  face  — 

Like  secrets  kept  for  love  untold. 

But  still  I  feel  that  His  embrace 

Slides  down  by  thrills,  through  all  things 

made, 
Through  sight  and  sound  of  every  place : 

As  if  my  tender  mother  laid 
On  my  shut  lids  her  kisses'  pressure, 
Half  waking  me  at  night ;  and  said, 
"  Who  kissed  you  through  the  dark,  dear 
guesser  ?  " 

— Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 


WORD   LIST 


Aar'on 
ac  cording 
ac'cu  rate  ly 
ad  mi  ra'tion 
ad  vance' 
ad  ven'tures 
Ag  a  mem'non 
a  gree'a  bly 
alm'onds 
a  maze'ment 
am'e  thyst 
an'cient 
andl  ron 
a  nigh' 
anl  ma  ted 
a  noint'ed 
anxious 
Apollo 
ap  peared' 
ap'pe  tite 
as  sayed' 
At  a  lan'ta 
•  at  tempting 
Au  gus'ta 


au  thor'i  ties 
a  voiding 

a  wak'ened 
awry' 

ban'ter 
Be'er  she'ba 
ben'e  fit 
Beth'le  hem 
be  ware' 
Birk'en  head 
Bruin 
buffalo 

Cam'e  lot 

carle 

Ca'sa  bi  an'ca 

cas'ket 

cat'a  ract 

cau'tion 

cau'tious  ly 

Ce'res 

cham'pi  on 

charl  ot 

277 


charming  ly 
Chaun'cey 
Chi  ca'go 
chim'ney 
Chris'tian 
chuc'kling 
Cin  cin  na'ti 
citl  sen 
clam'ber 
clucked 
clustered 
clus'ter  ing 
coiled 
Co  logne' 
colo'nel 
collim  bine 
Co  lumb'kill 
com'fort  a  ble 
com'fort  er 
comic  al 
com  mand'er 
com  mit'tee 
com  pas'sion 
com  plained' 


278 


com'pre  hend'ed 

di  rec'tion 

es  pe'cial  ly 

com'rade 

dis'ap  peared' 

es  tab'lished 

Co'myn 

dis  as'ter 

ex  act'ly 

con  cern'ing 

dis  cov'er  y 

ex  act'ness 

con  di'tion 

dis  cuss' 

ex  am'i  na'tion 

con  geals' 

dis  dained' 

Ex  cal'i  bur 

con  trived' 

dis  heart'ened 

ex  claimed' 

Cor'a  lie 

dis  or'der 

ex  er'tions 

coun'ter  pane" 

dis  sat'is  fied 

ex  haust'ed 

coun'ter  part' 

dis  tinct'ly 

ex'pe  di'tion 

crea'tures 

doffing 

ex  pe'ri  ence 

crevice 

doubt'ful  ly 

ex  plo'sion 

crick'ets 

Doug'las 

ex  pres'sion 

crock 

dread'ful  ly 

crook'ed 

droll'er  y 

f  ac'to  ry 

crouched 

duffle   ' 

fam'ine 

Crum'pies 

f  a'vor  ite 

cuck'oo  pint' 

ear'nest  ly 

feat 

cup'board 

eat'a  bles 

fla  min'goes 

cu'ri  ous 

Eau  Claire' 

fore  go' 

curt'sied 

ek'ron 

Franz 

E'li 

fright'ened 

dam'sel 

E  li'za 

Fritz 

de  cid'ed 

E  liz'a  beth 

fuel 

del'i  cate 

en  chant'ed 

f  u'gi  tive 

de  li'cious 

en  cour'aged 

fur'ni  ture 

de  part'ed 

en'er  gies 

dif  fi  cul  ty 

e'pha 

gal'l  ant 

dig'ni  fied 

eph'od 

gal  lant' 

279 


Gal'lo  way 

im  prove'ment 

Malle'ville 

Ges'sler 

in  cau'tious 

mar'tyrs 

gird'ed 

in'ci  dent 

mar'vel  ous 

goal 

in'dia  rub'ber 

mat' tress  es 

god'dess 

in  iq'ui  ty 

mea'ger 

Gol  go  ron'do 

in'ter  est  ed 

mel'o  dy 

Go  li'ath 

in  ter  rupt'ed 

mem'o  ry 

Greece 

Is'ra  el 

Mer'cu  ry 

grieved 

mid'ship'man 

griz'zlies 

Jacques 

minis  ter 

groped 

jeal'ous 

mis  tak'ing 

grum'bling 

Je  ru'sa  lem 

mon'sters 

Guin'e  vere 

Jes'se 

MonJ:  gom'er  y 

gui  tar' 

ju'ni  per 

mon'u  ment 
mor'sel 

haugh'ti  ly 

kan  ga  roo' 

mor'tals 

hav'er  sack 

ker'chief 

mu  si'cian 

ha'zel 

knotting 

hes'i  ta  ted 

neighbors 

Hip  pom'e  nes 

la  bur'num 

neighed 

hon'ey  sue  kle 

lead'en 

Nep'tune 

hov'el 

Le'o  de  grance 

nurs'er  y 

Hy'a  cinth 

liege 

nymphs 

Hy  a  cin'thus 

Lith'gow 

lof  t'i  ly 

o  be'di  ence 

ig'no  ranee 

lyre 

ob'ject 

im  me'di  ate  ly 

ob  jec'tion 

im  per'ti  nence 

mag  nif'i  cent 

ob  served' 

im  por'tant 

ma  hog'a  ny 

op'e  ra  glass 

280 


op'por  tu'ni  ty 

Plu'to 

re  ceipt'ed 

or'a  cle 

pome'gran'ate 

re  ceived' 

or'chard 

por'rin  ger 

rec  on  noi'ter  ing 

O'ri  ent 

port  cul'lis 

re  cruit' 

or  na  men'tal 

por'tion 

re  flec'tion 

out  stretched' 

punch 

refuge 

out  wilted 

prai'ries 

re  fused' 

prec'i  pice 

re  leased' 

prefer' 

re  peat'ed 

Pal'es  tine 

pre  scribe' 

re  quest' 

pan'ic-strick'en 

pres'ent  ly 

re  solved' 

par  tic'u  lar 

pres'sure 

re  spond'ed 

pas'sa  ges 

pre  vail' 

re  store' 

pas'sen  gers 

pris'on  er 

re  strained' 

pas'sion 

pro  ceed'ed 

re  tired' 

pe  cul'iar 

prod'i  gy 

re  vealed' 

Pel'li  more 

prop'er  ly 

re  venged' 

pen'guins 

proph'et 

rhyme 

per  ceived' 

Pro  ser'pi  ne 

right'eous  ness 

peril  ous 

pro  vid'ed 

ri'ot  ous 

per  sist'ed 

psalm 

Ro'man 

Pe'ter  kins 

pto'maine 

ruffling 

pet'ti  coat 

run'ci  ble 

pha'e  ton 

rus'tic 

Phira  del'phi  a 

quan'ti  ty 

rus'tle 

Phon'ny 

quar'rel  ing 

pi  az'za 

quench 

sac'ri  fice 

pin'a  fore' 

quiv'er 

sal'lies 

plunged 

quoits 

Sam'u  el 

281 


sapphires 
Sar'a  cens 
Sara  tc/ga 
sat'is  fac'tion 
sat'is  fied 
scab'bard 
scep'tre 
screeched 
sem'i  cir'cle 
sen'si  tive 
sep'a  rate 
shek'els 
shel'ter 
shrieked 
signal 
sixpence 
Sliev'e  league 
slip'per  y 
so  lem'ni  fry 
sol'i  tudes 
Sol'o  mon 
So  phi'a 
Spaniards 


spec  ta'tors 
squash'es 
squeezing 
squir'rel 
startling 
stanch 
stifling 
sud'den  ly 
Su  pe'ri  or 
sur  mo  unfed 
sur  round'ed 
Swit'zer  land 

taxed 

thought'ful  ly 

threatened 

tour'ney 

tre  men'dous 

tri'umph 

tu'mult 

Turk 

Twom'ly 

ty'rant 


un  com'fort  a  ble 
u'ni  forms 
un  ti'di  ness 
up  lif  t'ed 

va'cant 
veg'e  ta  bles 
ven'tured 
ven'ture  some 
Ve'nus 
vet'er  an 
vi'o  lent 
vision 

war'riors 
weap'on 
whirled 
Whit'ta  ker 
wrath 

yon'der 

Zeph'y  rus 


SUGGESTIONS  IN  REGARD   TO  VOCAL 
DRILL 

To  secure  good  tones  from  the  pupils,  plenty  of 
fresh  air  must  be  supplied  to  the  lungs.  On  that 
account  it  is  desirable,  either  to  have  the  reading  the 
first  lesson  in  the  afternoon  programme  or  to  have 
it  follow  the  gymnastics.  During  the  latter  exercise 
the  windows  are  open  and  the  schoolroom  is  filled 
with  fresh  air. 

At  the  close  of  the  physical  exercises,  while  the 
pupils  are  standing,  let  them  give  the  long  vowels 
preceded  by  m  and  I,  after  the  teacher  has  herself 
illustrated  the  sound.  There  should  be  not  only 
class  work,  but  work  with  individuals.  At  all  times 
the  concert  tones  should  be  light  and  agreeable  in 
quality. 

To  secure  definite  suggestions,  let  us  see  what 
the  selection  "  Seven  Times  One "  by  Jean  Ingelow 
would  demand. 

The  pitfalls  in  articulation  and  pronunciation  in 
this  piece  are  four :  (1)  the  long  u  as  in  dew,  your, 
and  you  are  ;  (2)  the  ing ;  (3)  the  o  as  in  felloio  and 
yellow;  (4)  the  final  d  in  and  and  incidentally  the 
final  r  when  followed  by  and. 

In  the  preliminary  vowel  drill,  combinations  such 
as  no,  new,  lo,  and  lu  should  be  especially  dwelt  upon. 


283 

The  greater  part  of  the  time  at  the  teacher's  dis- 
posal, however,  should  be  devoted  to  practicing  these 
difficult  sounds  in  combination,  for  it  is  as  he  meets 
the  unforeseen  difficulty  that  the  unwary  pupil  suc- 
cumbs. It  will  be  observed  that  the  following 
exercises  often  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone. 

(1)  u  (danger  oo) :  — 

"  The  dew  was  i-aXling  fast." 
"  New  cities  each  returning  day." 
"  From  morn  to  noon  he  fell,  from  noon  to  dewy 
eve." 

"  Like  the  dew  on  the  fountain, 

Thou  art  gone  and  forever." 
"  The  rose  is  fairest  when  'tis  budding  new. 
The  rose  is  sweetest  washed  with  mornm^  dew" 

(2)  ing  (also  work  with  you  are  and  your) :  — 
You  are  hidm^  your  face. 

You  are  warring  your  arms. 

You  are  buildmgr  your  nest. 

You  are  ringing  your  bell. 

You  are  counting  your  money. 

You  are  shading  your  light, 
etc. 

In  certain  of  the  expressions  under  (2),  especially 
"your  face"  and  "your  nest,"  the  teacher  may  guide 
tbe  class  to  the  desired  inflection  that  will  be  needed 
later  when  they  read,  in  the  poem,  "  And  show  me 
your  nest "  and  "  That  God  has  hidden  your  face." 


284 

(3)  6  (fellow,  yellow) :  — 

"  I  kne?/;  him,  Horatio ;  a  fellow  of  infinite  jest/' 
"A  primrose  by  the  river's  brink. 

A  yellow  primrose  was  to  him 

And  it  was  nothma  more." 

(4)  and  (incidentally  final  r) :  — 
"  Over  and  over  again." 

"  Over  the  hills  and  far  away." 

"  Sailmo  ana1  shin  ma." 

"  Rouna7  ana1  low." 

"  Something  ana1  every  thma." 

In  all  the  work  noted  above,  the  pronunciation 
should  be  as  usual,  with  no  exaggerations  of  the 
sounds  or  combinations  in  question. 

If  the  interest  and  pride  of  the  children  is  enlisted 
in  this  preliminary  work,  the  results  in  the  subse- 
quent reading  will  be  potent. 

At  every  step  the  specific  purpose  should  be  clear 
to  the  student.  The  teacher  should  frequently  stop 
in  the  midst  of  the  drill  to  say  to  the  class :  "  Why 
are  we  doing  this  ?  What  special  fault  are  we  trying 
to  correct  in  this  exercise?"  If  the  aim  is  thus 
made  specific,  the  pupil's  hearty  cooperation  is  in- 
sured, and  the  ultimate  results  will  far  exceed  what 
would  be  the  outcome  of  mere  automatic  word- 
calling. 


YB  36618 


961633    . 


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